


Morning, Teach.

by dreamofflight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Angst, Cheating, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, M/M, Plot Twist, Romance, Slow Build, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 29
Words: 173,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofflight/pseuds/dreamofflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Morning Teach<br/>Authors: camui_zuuki (writing Dean and Sam) & dream_0f_flight (writing Castiel and Gabriel) (our names on Livejournal, Camuizuuki doesn't have an A03)<br/>Fic Header Art by: xsnappapplex(thanks sweetie <3)<br/>All Fic Art by: dream_0f_flight<br/>Genre: High School AU, romance, drama<br/>Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel (MINOR: Sam/Brady, Cas/Meg)<br/>Warnings: porn, angst<br/>Summary: Art teacher Castiel Novak has just turned 29 when he meets Dean Winchester at a gay club. After sleeping with the boy, he leaves in a hurry, trying to cope with the guilt over betraying his girlfriend and his overly conservative parents. But forgetting Dean becomes close to impossible, when Castiel's new job at a High School in San Francisco reveals Dean to be a most troublesome student...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an RP between myself (Dreamofflight) and Camuizuuki. Therefore there may be some overlap in time/actions/words of characters, and the voice of the author(s) will change. Please bear with it and be constructive in any criticism you have, this is our baby :) Thanks, and enjoy!

Chapter 1

art by http://xsnappapplex.livejournal.com/

“…Gabriel, I still think this is an awful idea.”  
“Cassy, stop being such a prude! I know Mom and Dad hate the very IDEA of me being a flaming ho-mo-sexual, but you at least could lighten up a bit and support me, you homophobic jerk!”

Castiel threw his brother a startled glare, but the shorter sandy haired man just grinned and shrugged, showing he was teasing. Castiel sighed and ran a hand through his messy black hair. The last thing he needed right now was Gabriel teasing him about being a homophobe, while they stood in a line of GAY MEN, to get into a GAY BAR.  
This was obviously not Castiel’s idea. It had been Gabe’s, to take the recluse younger brother out for his 29th birthday, rescuing him from his controlling girlfriend’s clutches for one evening. Gabriel had told Meg that he was taking Castiel wine tasting with some of his friends in Napa. Little did she know that Gabriel was actually taking Castiel into the heart of San Francisco, right into the Haight, the city’s throbbing, pulsing, gay center.

The bar was two storied, really a club more than anything. It had outdoor balconies that hung rainbow flags, 4 dance floors that spun different kinds of house music for people to practically fuck each other to on cement floors, dance cages and g-go dancer stages, and 6 bars that served everything from apple martinis to blow job shots. There were also something called ‘the baths’, which were back rooms filled with fake leather couches, futons and throw pillows by the dozens. It was basically where you took someone once you were done almost fucking them on the dance floor to actually fuck them, in semi privacy. Either that or the bathroom stalls, which were rarely used for their intended purpose.  
Of course Gabriel had neglected to tell Castiel any of this when coaxing him out for the evening, merely promising a good time with some of Gabriel’s friends, some good booze, and decent music. So far, the decent music part was hit or miss for Castiel, who much preferred classical music to this techno crap that was pouring out of the open windows, but he wasn’t going to be a snob. Not when Gabriel had actually toned himself down for the evening, and was wearing jeans that were almost skin tight, instead of absolutely skin tight, and a simple white tank top instead of the day glo pink spattered graphic thing he’d showed up wearing. Cas had managed to make him change, offering up the simple tank from his own wardrobe as a way to make himself more comfortable in Gabriel’s fabulous presence.

It was bad enough when your older brother was absolutely flaming gay, it was even worse when your parents were staunchly Catholic, and tried to get Gabriel into ‘rehab centers’ for gay people at least twice a year. Christmases and Easter were travesties, filled with nothing but fights and arguing. There was nothing to be done though, as neither his parents nor Gabriel were going to change themselves for the other, and Castiel wasn’t sure why either had to. He wasn’t homophobic himself, and felt that it was fine for his brother to be how he was…it was how he was born, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that. His parents views were their beliefs, and they didn’t need to change them. Castiel just didn’t think it was fair that they forced them upon Gabriel, but the one time he’d brought it up his parents had immediately assumed he too, was gay, and the wave of shame that ran through him made him shut that idea down immediately with a ‘NO, of course not!’. The look on Gabriel’s face when he’d said that spoke of utter hurt, and his brother hadn’t spoken to him for about a week after that, but they never talked about it again.  
Castiel was the peace maker of the family, soothing frayed nerves with a gentle hand, so it was no surprise that he was utterly passive in his day to day life. Which is probably how he wound up with Meg as his live-in girlfriend. She was controlling, possessive, and incredibly insecure. Everything had to be about her, or she felt that someone was ignoring her, or possibly being mean or cruel. The one time Castiel had gone out after a long day at work with some fellow teachers from the High School he worked at, Meg had a fit, throwing things and yelling that Castiel was cheating on her, and didn’t love her. That had been the end of that.  
Now, standing in line at a club with his brother, smartly dressed in jeans, boots and a black button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, tucked into his pants to help avoid wandering hands, he actually… felt at ease. It was nice to get out, even if it was to a gay bar. At least if Meg somehow found out they went to a bar instead of wine tasting, she couldn’t accuse him of picking up some girl. All the girls here would probably be much more interested in the other girls here than him, and he was okay with that. Castiel was only here to drink, talk with some potential new friends, and maybe dance…if Gabriel got him drunk enough.  
“Loosen up, Cassy, you’re making me nervous!”

“I am loose, Gabe…really.”

He smiles, and cerulean blue eyes light up as wrinkles form at the outside corners, dimples peeking out in his cheeks. Gabriel grins back, his own golden eyes twinkling mischief, and moments later, after a cover charge of $15 each, they’re inside the bar, the music instantly near deafening. Gabriel looks around and spots his friends at the bar, grabs Castiel’s hand, and leads the way into the fray.

*

“One more!”

Dean Winchester leans over the counter, smiling at Jake, tonights bartender at the top floor of the Haight and licks the last drop of his Shot off his lips. The night is still young but it’s been good so far. Dean’s been here almost every day in the last three months. Luckily it’s always the same with night clubs - you got the looks, you get in, most of the time even for free. Dean is on first-name terms with the securities, the dancers, the bartenders and the club owners. That being said, Dean doesn’t pay for much these days.

Jake slides another glass of alcohol over the counter and Dean winks at him, leaving the bar to walk over to the railing. He screws himself between two couples making out heatedly and takes in the scenery below. It’s Friday night and the club is jam-packed, as it is practically every day of the week, and as Dean sips on his drink, he lets his gaze wander over the crowd. He spots a few guys who seem worth his time but nothing that makes his heart stop, his blood rush in his veins.

He sighs and turns around, downing his glass at one gulp and slamming it back on the counter, before making his way down the stairs to the ground floor. He spots another regular, Gabriel So-and-so dancing with some other, remarkably stiff guy close to the bar and decides to at least say ‘hello’. But then his companion turns around and Dean stops dead in his tracks. Bright blue eyes return his gaze, reflected by the millions of lights flickering around the club and Dean’s mouth is suddenly very dry.

The guy looks away again and Dean finds himself letting his eyes now roam over his body instead. He’s slender but beneath the simple black shirt Dean can divine just the right amount of muscle. His skin is pale, which makes his dark, messy bed-hair and the full, pink lips stand out even more. Licking his own lips, Dean finally moves, taking a small detour and sitting down on one of the stools at the bar. One thing’s clear: he wants to talk to this guy, hell, he’s got a whole laundry-list full of things he’d like to do to him - but not with Gabriel sashaying around him.

His chance comes quicker than he’d thought, when Gabe is pulled on the dance floor by some guy and leaves Blue Eyes alone at the bar. Dean smiles at the look on his face, all awkwardness and downright fear. He gets up and funnels through the crowd until he’s standing right next to him.  
“What’s the matter?”, he asks straight forward and puts a hand on his, smiling reassuringly at the confusion on the other guys face “You’re looking for some fun?”

Blue Eyes just blinks at him, once, twice, before a blush spreads over his cheeks, making him look - if possible - even more adorable. Dean leans closer, licking his lips and brushing them against the guy’s earlobe.

“I think you just found it.”

He feels the other man shiver at his words and pulls back with a satisfied smile, his hand leaving his only reluctantly. He turns his back on him and leaves without another word. The note he left on the napkin underneath the man’s drink would do the rest.  
*  
Gabriel had been buying him drink after hard drink, and by now Castiel was having a bit of trouble recognizing which people were Gabe’s friends and which were just random strangers that were incredibly friendly, so when someone walks right up to him and starts speaking to him, Castiel’s first thought is that it’s one of Gabe’s friends.  
The minute that he looks up though, his breath catches in his throat and it’s all he can do to not fall over. This boy, no…man, for he had stubble and a strong shoulder line and was obviously past puberty…this man, was the single most beautiful person Castiel had ever seen. His heart skips a beat when the green eyed beauty grins at him, teasing him with his words and touching him with a warm hand, but Castiel doesn’t really hear what he says over the pounding music, his own thoughts of ‘oh god….oh my god, he’s so pretty…how are men allowed to be that lovely, I don’t understand…’.

He flushes bright red when the man leans closer, realizing he hadn’t heard a single word that he’d said.

‘I think you just found it’, the deep voice says in his ear, the barest brush of lips over his earlobe causing a shiver up his spine. Castiel’s breath catches again when he realizes there’s a galaxy worth of freckles dancing over the man’s face when he pulls back, the confident almost cocky smile that the beautiful man throws him pushing him off balance so he has to grab the bar not to fall over.  
And then he’s walking away, and Castiel blushes even darker when he realizes he’s watching the man’s ass as he walks away, the tight jeans showing it off perfectly. Castiel licks his lips and then shakes his head, the thoughts running rampant through it not normal for him, not normal at all. Fuck, he needed another drink, this was…not okay. He turns back to the drink he has on the bar, and lifts it up to finish it in one gulp, eyes shut, but opening back up as he sets the drink back down on the bar. Something at the bottom of the glass catches his eyes, so he brings it back up to eye level to look inside.

There, distorted at the bottom of the glass, tinged with beads of clinging amber liquid, was a scrawled message on the napkin that was stuck to the glass with condensation. The ink was bleeding from the dew drops of water, but the message stood out loud and clear, and each word sent a shock wave to Castiel’s groin.

‘FUCK ME’ the message said, and Castiel swallows hard around the lump in his throat. He calls the bartender over and points out the napkin, but the bartender raises his hands and shakes his head, eyes wide in a classic ‘wasn’t me!’ defensive posture. Castiel was afraid of that. He shudders, looking back through the crowd, trying to spot the gorgeous man once again, looking for those well toned shoulders and twinkling moss green eyes, but he fails to see him.  
‘I need to tell him I’m taken... and straight’, Castiel thinks to himself, and with that thought in his mind he grabs the napkin and sets off towards the back of the club, in the direction that he saw the man disappear just moments earlier.

*

Dean can feel the other man’s eyes on his body, as he pushes his way through the crowd and over to the baths. At the entrance door he stops, turning around, his eyes searching and finding the object of his desire with gleeful satisfaction. Blue Eyes is following him, his face deep red and his lips - god those lips - slightly opened. Dean doesn’t let him catch up, entering the dark backroom before his haul of the night reaches him. Dean knows his way around here and he soon realizes that the other man doesn’t, so instead of making this about getting caught, he stops after a few meters, looking over his shoulder to find his pursuer right behind him. Turning around and snaking one hand around his neck, Dean smiles widely, pulling the guy closer to breathe him in. His scent is intoxicating, aphrodisiac, something Dean had barely recognized back in the club.  
“See? Isn’t this so much better than having a drink… all… alone?”

He breathes the last few words in the other man’s ear, feeling him shiver at every syllable and smiling to himself. Oh, this was going to be so much fun…  
*  
Castiel’s hands sweat as he feels the other man pull him close, and this close he realizes that he’s actually shorter, and more lean, than the other. The realization sends a shiver down his spine, but he doesn’t know why. He manages to pull back far enough to look just slightly into the other man’s eyes, his whole body thrumming with energy. This close he can smell the other man over the smell of stale alcohol and sex in the air, and he smells fresh, like some sort of citrus, maybe fresh cut grass or lemonade. It’s a sweet scent, and it makes his body tingle as he shakes his head, trying to form the words he knows he needs to say.  
Castiel holds up the napkin, looking from it to Dean, and finally manages to speak, his voice even thicker than usual, gravel grating up Dean’s spine.

“Is this yours?”

*

Dean manages to smile even wider at the other man’s words and makes his best ‘I-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about’ face.

“What do you think?”, he says, the fake look of innocence directed at the sweating man in front of him.

He doesn’t give him the time to reply, doesn’t think he would be able to, as he seems to distracted by the loud moans and gasps around them, the faint drumming of the music and Dean’s shameless invasion of his personal space.

“Let me tell you what I think… I think… you’re interested in me…”, he continues, each word whispered against the warm skin of Castiel’s face “…which is why you followed me in here…”, Dean stops and lowers his lips to brush them over the small patch of skin where his neck and shoulder meet, the shocked gasp tasting like sweet honey “and… I also think… that you’re tired of things going nice and slow…”  
With those last words, Dean’s hand travels down Castiel’s body swiftly, to palm his visible bulge through his pants.  
*  
Castiel’s jaw drops open, his mouth a gaping ‘O’ at the sudden friction against the hard on he hadn’t even realized he had. His head swam with the alcoholic buzz, everything around him fading to the background but the man in front of him, the man whose name he didn’t even know. His hips buck against Dean’s hand, and his eyes slide closed for a second, the napkin falling to the dirty floor in an instant as Castiel’s hands open in reflex.  
“S..shit..”

He swallows hard and opens his eyes again, a flash of Meg’s frowning face going through his head. Castiel grabs Dean’s wrists and shoves his back against the nearest wall, a frown on his face as he holds the other man there, pinning him against the dark painted wall with his hands, his body only a few inches from Dean’s.  
“N-no… that’s… that’s not why I came in here..”

God, this close he could see the perfect cupid’s bow of the man’s lips, the red glint in the dim light of his stubble. Fuck, he was beautiful. The cocky smile on Dean’s face sent another jolt of want to Castiel’s cock and he swallows again and moves back a few inches out of Dean’s space.

*

Dean lets out a surprised gasp, as Castiel presses him against the wall, holding his wrists still next to his head. He tilts his head a bit, following Castiel’s look to his lips and licking them suggestively.

“We can keep playing this game, if you want to… or you could let go of my hands and I could suck you off… you wanna know how good my lips would feel wrapped around your cock? How good it would look? You’d like to watch, wouldn’t you?”

Dean smiles at the sudden inhale of the other man and feels the grip around his wrists loosen, pulls his hands down to let them roam over Castiel’s upper body, playing with the buttons and sliding down to tug at the hem of his shirt.

“Come on, baby, you know you want me…”  
*  
Castiel’s breath is coming in shuddering inhales and exhales, eyes hooded with lust as he watches this gorgeous man in front of him all but strip and bend over, every tiny movement oozing sex. He swallows hard and shivers when Dean’s hands pull his shirt out from inside his jeans, the rough brush of fabric over his skin sending goosebumps racing over the surface.  
His voice cracks when he speaks, rough gravel fighting his vocal cords.  
“I-…I can’t…I need to…g..get back..”

His words say one thing but his body does another, pushing back in close to Dean again, one hand coming up to brush a thumb over the plush pink of Dean’s lips. God, Castiel has never seen someone with lips like this, so perfect and ripe and full. He swallows hard and his eyes flick from Dean’s lips to the green orbs staring back at him, mocking his inability to stop himself.

“Really-…my brother…Gabe is waiting..”

*

Dean raises his hand, cupping Castiel’s which is now on his cheek and turns his head to press his lips against his palm.

“Trust me, baby… Gabe’s a big boy… he can entertain himself…”

He flicks out his tongue to lick over the warm skin, feeling Castiel shudder and his hand tremble.

“There’s one thing you need to know about me: I can be very persuasive if I want something… and I want you.”

And with that Dean takes another step forward, pulling Castiel in and covering his lips with his own. For a seemingly endless moment, the other man is rigid, completely still, and Dean presses in closer, sucking on his lower lip, as his hands rest loosely on Castiel’s hips.  
*  
Castiel’s entire body stiffens as Dean kisses him, almost like the flow of blood in his body just stops for a moment, then restarts the other way, instead of bringing fresh oxygenated blood cells to his brain, everything shoots straight south and stays there. Castiel shivers and moans into the kiss, hands coming up to grip either side of Dean’s face as he takes a step and presses the other man against the wall, his eyes shutting.

Fuck it all, nothing else mattered in this moment but those plump lips and hard muscle, the stiff line of the other man’s cock against his when Castiel thrusts his hips out against Dean’s. He swallows hard, a soft gasp escaping him before he opens his mouth and kisses Dean deep, hips starting up a slow incessant grind. The alcohol was doing this, something in the back of his head said, this was the alcohol, and nothing else. The pleasure he was feeling rise up inside him, the tingling sensations in his lips and the deep needy throb in his cock, it was all the alcohol interacting with his body, fueled by the beautiful wonder in front of him, like a match that just lit the 151 proof that had pooled deep inside of him. Flame to a puddle of liquor, and boom, ignition, sparks and fire, and everything was dancing in his head and Castiel could hear nothing anymore but a voice that spoke over everything else, his own voice, out loud, rough and dragging.

“Privacy.”

*

Dean feels the cold wall in his back, feels Castiel’s hands on his face, his body pressing against his and his lips moving against his. A moan escapes him, as he dips his tongue out and pushes it into Castiel’s mouth to find its counterpart. Less than ten seconds later they’re devouring each other, every thought banned from their heads, their minds just set on the now, the here.

‘I knew it’, Dean thinks to himself and smirks into the kiss but Castiel doesn’t stop kissing him, despite his own low command for privacy. Eventually Dean pulls away far enough for them to stop and his hand grips the other man’s, pulling him with him. It takes them a few tries but when they finally find an empty room, Dean pushes the other man inside and the door shut behind them. There’s a leather couch in one corner of the room but they don’t really pay attention to it yet. Instead Blue Eyes steps back into Dean’s personal space, pushing him against the closed door and eliciting a low groan from the younger man’s throat.

“What’s.. what’s your name?”, he breathes in between frantic kisses, nipping the other man’s lower lip “Need to… know what to scream when… when you fuck me….”  
*  
Castiel shivers at the way Dean breathes against him, the way he asks for his name, and he can’t help himself when he whispers out ‘Castiel’, too far gone on alcohol and lust to even bother thinking up a fake name. He faintly thinks he might regret that later, but the idea of this gorgeous man screaming his name sends another rush of pleasure right down his spine to pool low in his belly, and it’s all he can manage to tug gently at the man’s shirt instead of ripping it off him.

“Your-…Your name?”, he pants, in between pulling the shirt off over Dean’s head and tossing it onto the couch behind them, fingers hesitating for a second before they start sliding over smooth planes of muscle, discovering instantly that the hardened muscle feels good, not alien, under his hands.

The way Dean’s body responds to his touches is addictive, every hitch of breath or thrust of hips against his makes Castiel feel more drunk, the swirl in his head making it hard to see beyond Dean’s face at the moment.

“…God…you’re beautiful…”

He breathes, pausing for a moment to take in the perfectly tousled hair and the work hardened body. This man was breath taking, and Castiel had him for the night…or at least for the next hour or so. He leans in and latches his mouth over the man’s neck, sucking in his scent and taste and moaning at it.

*

“Cas.. Castiel?”

Dean’s smile is replaced by an open mouthed gasp, when kiss-swollen lips start sucking at his neck. He raises his hands to put them on Castiel’s shoulders, steadying himself, as the other man keeps kissing, nipping and licking at his warm skin.

“nnnh.. not so bad yourself, Cas…”

Dean moans, when he feels teeth biting gently but passionately at his collarbone, the skin of his chest and his fingers dig into Castiel’s shoulders.

“Dean.. I’m… I’m Dean…”

His hips buck at the continuous touches, the possessive kisses and low groans coming from Castiel’s throat. His voice, god… even if Castiel wasn’t as handsome, gorgeous, hot - he was kind of at a loss of words when it came to adjectives describing his beauty - as he was, Dean still would’ve wanted him. There was something about his voice, the deep gravelly sound of it making Dean impossibly hard.

“Oh god… Cas please…”

He’s usually not the begging-type of guy… but this… dear Lord… they were just kissing and groping and Dean was already scared of coming in his pants like a fucking teenager.  
*  
Castiel licks his lips as he moves away from Dean’s neck, hands skittering down the man’s sides to pull and squeeze around his waist, shuffling them back towards the couch. He sits down on the couch and pulls Dean into his lap, going back to kissing him hard, arms wrapped around his waist tight as his hips rock up seeking friction and pressure.

All practical thought was out the window by this point, the way Dean was begging him set Castiel’s blood on fire, his entire body aching for release already. There was one good thing about getting older though, he was able to hold out longer, and while he wanted it, there was no pressure for him, no threat of coming in his pants, at least not yet. Dean’s body made him harder by the second though, the gasps escaping bruised lips setting tingling sensations racing up his spine to make the hair on his neck stand on end. Castiel shivers and scratches a hand down Dean’s back, grinding up against the man’s ass with a breathless moan.

“Dean….”

*

Dean moans at Castiel’s nails drawing lines down his back and the outlines of his hard cock pushing against his butt.

“Christ… Cas..”

He kisses him back hard, tongues fighting for dominance but Dean giving up all too soon. This is not about winning or losing - it’s about whether or not Dean gets the chance to feel Castiel’s throbbing cock inside of him or not before coming. Dean moans again, then pulls back and slides to the ground in front of Cas, his hands grabbing his thighs and pushing them apart. His fingers find the button of Cas’ pants and seconds later he’s pulling them down Castiel’s legs.

Leaning forward, Dean breathes hot against the thin fabric of Cas’ white boxer briefs, mouthing at the outlines of the hard cock beneath. When he pulls the shorts down as well, he takes a moment just to look, taking in how Castiel’s leaking member presses up against his stomach, reddened and throbbing and ready and Dean can’t wait any longer. He leans back down, licking over the tip experimentally before taking him in, lips wrapping oh-so-tight around hot flesh.  
*  
There’s a split second where his rational mind picks through the haze and fog of alcohol and lust, but the moment Dean’s mouth touches his cock, that voice is squashed under Castiel’s low moan.  
“Oh god…D..Dean….”  
It felt fantasic, the hot wet heat of being inside someone’s mouth. Meg just didn’t like to give blowjobs, and in the 7 months they’d been together Castiel could count on one hand the number of times he’d received one… and they had never been this absolutely hungry either. Dean was taking him in like he was starving and Castiel could give him exactly what he needed just by sucking hard enough. His hips buck up toward the green eyed man’s mouth, and he lets out another slow moan, a whimper as Dean takes him in even further. A hand snakes down to grip in Dean’s short cropped hair, barely enough for a handful but Castiel takes it, pulling just slightly, his eyes sliding shut as his mouth drops open with an expletive of ‘Fuck’, barely breathed into their otherwise quiet room.

*

‘No’, Dean thinks as he smiles around Castiel’s cock ‘..’fuck’ doesn’t even begin to cover how fucking fantastic this is!’

He closes his eyes and swallows Castiel down, feels him buck up his hips and his hands tighten in his hair and Dean can’t get enough of this, of Cas. He licks one long stripe up his cock, as he pulls back slightly, looking up at the other man, looking completely wrecked, hair tousled and Cas is returning his gaze out of half-closed eyes.

“Come on”, Dean coaxes, licking pre-come off his lips, as one of his hands wraps around the base of Castiel’s cock “fuck my mouth, Cas.”  
*  
Castiel’s body threatens to overheat as he flushes and then obeys Dean’s coaxing command, gripping the back of the boy’s head and pulling him back down onto his cock. Castiel starts up a slow rhythm that quickly builds as he breaks faster and faster, a fantasy he hadn’t even known he had playing out before him as Dean takes him down so easily.

“Oh…god…your mouth….f…fuck….”

His hips arch up, stuttering slightly as a wave of pleasure rolls over him and he holds Dean down, nose buried against his body and just breathes, or tries to as his breath catches in his throat. Castiel lets go of the back of Dean’s head quickly after that, panting as he looks down at the man.

“..Come here…”

His voice is huskier than before, lips wet as he licks them and looks over the muscled form kneeling in front of him, green eyes glinting in the dim light of the room, barely bright enough to see from the single wall sconce near the door.

*

Dean likes to watch. He likes to see his partner coming undone, likes to make out the exact moment when he’s going to come. Castiel doesn’t come, not yet. Dean’s actually quite impressed, he’s had awkward first-timers aplenty and normally one blowjob did the trick. But Castiel was different, that had been plain obvious from the very first second and Dean follows his request, pushing himself up until he’s standing right in front of Cas.

He waits, wants to make sure that Cas is watching him intently, before Dean starts to unbutton his pants, shrugging them off and pulling down his tight black briefs as well. Completely naked he’s stepping forward, swinging his legs over Castiel’s, until he’s hovering right above the other man’s cock. Leaning down, he brushes his lips against Cas’, kissing him gently yet desperately. When he pulls back, their eyes meet and Dean’s heart skips a beat.

“Cas, please… want you inside me…”  
*  
Castiel shivers, brushes hands down Dean’s sides to cup his ass, squeezing the firm globes of flesh and marveling at how strong he must be, so well muscled. It sends a thrill through his body, the alcoholic haze lifting just a little at the realization of what Dean was asking for.

He croaks out ‘do you… have protection?’, and flushes bright red at having to say it out loud.  
Cas brushes one hand down the crack of Dean’s ass, fingers teasingly close but never touching his entrance. His other hand snakes around, hesitates, then wraps around Dean’s cock, thumb brushing the beading precome back over the tip to slick the way for his hand to slowly jack Dean while Cas watches, takes in the quivering stomach muscles and shaking thighs.

*

Dean is far beyond thinking straight. The way Cas is looking at him, touching him, gently, tenderly, as if he’s something precious, something worth loving, worshipping even. Dean shudders at that ridiculous thought and feels his knees go weak, when Cas wraps shy fingers around his erection. His eyes fall closed and he presses his lips together firmly, trying to keep the embarrassingly loud moans in.

“Back… pocket…”, he finally gasps as an answer to Cas’ question.

He feels the other man moving, can hear him fumbling and then he’s back, his hand stroking him and his lips finding his adam’s apple. Dean’s whole body is trembling, as he opens his eyes and takes the condom out of Cas’ hands, leaning back a bit to have a better view. He’s not breaking eye contact, when he rolls the condom over Castiel’s cock, licking his lips at the delicious sight and the anticipation of what would come next. He wants to ride him, wants to be on top of him, wants him to see him move, wants to see Cas writhing beneath him. God, the simple thought of it has Dean shuddering with need. He takes one deep breath and positions himself, Cas’ cock pressing slightly against his hole, before lowering himself on it slowly but surely.

It’s perfect.

Dean can see the surprise on Castiel’s face, the shock and confusion, soon replaced by sweet sweet pleasure and lust and when he’s completely filled, Dean sinks down to press their upper bodies against each other and just feel for a moment.

“Cas… Cas….”  
*  
The lubed condom was perfect, and Cas takes a split second to thank the makers of it before his mind blanks with raw pleasure, scorching him inside out at the tight heat thate envelops his cock. He grits his teeth and hisses out Dean’s name, a soft sob breaking through his lips as the man slides all the way down, Cas’ cock bottoming out inside him. It was beyond anything he’d ever felt, the tightness so powerful he was afraid he was going to black out from the pressure.

When Dean leans down Castiel can’t help himself and quickly wraps his arms around the man’s lower back, squeezing their bodies together and shifting just slightly inside Dean.

“Dean….”

It seemed to be the only thing that Cas could say now, choking on any other words as he mouths along the other’s jawline to his lips, capturing them with a throaty moan. His body was reacting swiftly, and almost before he could think about it his hips shifted back and down, then up, sliding just an inch or so out and then back inside the tight heat, the silken slide of it filthy and wonderful.

“Oh-….g..god…Dean…”

*

‘That pretty much sums it up’, Dean thought but not a word came over his lips. All he could do was breathe and feel and listen to Castiel’s quiet gasps. And then he moves… and Dean loses it. He arches his back, a low moan escaping his lips as he throws back his head and moves his hips. The rhythm Castiel sets is slow and oh-so-torturous but even though Dean was used to being handled roughly and without mercy, this was perfect. He meets Cas’ steady thrusts with his own movements and angles his hips just a little bit, so that when Cas pushes in the next time, the tip of his cock slides over his sweet spot and Dean sees stars. The name of the other man is groaned into the otherwise quiet room and he can feel the pace quicken, Castiel pushing up faster and harder and Dean can’t keep his voice down any longer. The faster Cas thrusts up and inside of him, the louder Dean’s moans get, until he’s a quivering, writhing mess.

“Cas.. can’t… oh god…”

His knees go weak and for a moment, when he collapses on top of Castiel, he’s just shocked cause this is something that never happened before. He feels Castiel move, sliding out of Dean’s body and he’s practically crying at the loss of friction, of this amazing feeling of being filled. Cas is gripping his shoulder gently and turning them, until Dean is spread out underneath him and Dean can see him hovering above. When he slides back in, Dean all but whimpers, biting his lip as his eyes flutter closed.  
*  
Castiel needs to have his hands on Dean, needs to grip his hips and see the skin whiten under the pressure, watch as the body beneath him shook with the pleasure that he, Castiel, is giving the other man. There are flickers of ‘this is wrong’ and ‘Meg’ and ‘you’re not gay!’ in the back of his head, but the alcohol and the way Dean is looking at him over writes them, makes them fade to a white noise in the background, and he focuses on just one thing: Dean.

The way Dean arches his back and breathes, so beautiful beneath him with bowed legs that wrap around his hips and plump lips that open with cries as Castiel snaps his hips forward to bury himself inside the man once more. Everything laid in front of him is beautiful, and despite his trouble with coordination normally, somehow in this moment, Castiel is perfect. He moves just right for Dean, sliding deeper inside him and striking that spot over and over with each long thrust. A bloom of pride wakes up inside Cas and he moves faster, pushing one of Dean’s legs up over his shoulder and canting the man’s hips to the side so Dean is on his side as Cas drills into him, harder and harder now, his own breath coming in broken shudders.

“Dean…c..can’t…not gonna last…”

He swallows hard and moans low, eyes shutting as he wraps one hand around the man’s thigh to hold his body still as he plunges into him, the other pulling up off the sticky couch to wrap around Dean’s cock, firm strokes moving in counter to his thrusts, the timing slightly awkward but faster and faster.

*

It’s insane. Dean’s face is being pressed into the black leather, as Cas slams inside him again and again. Dean feels sweat runnig down his face and raises a hand above his head, stretching, just trying to breathe. When Cas speaks, Dean feels something deep inside of him spark, ignite, setting his whole body on fire. He comes hard and noisy, face pressed into the seating surface of the couch as Cas rides him through his orgasm. Dean’s hands are gripping the armrest, his breaths coming in rushed, rough gasps, a mantra of ‘god’ and ‘oh’ and ‘Cas’.  
*  
The second Dean came his body clamped down around Cas hard, and try as he might Cas couldn’t last through that, thrusting only a handful more times before coming himself, emptying into the condom with a guttural groan. He finishes inside Dean, even with the condom separating him the idea of being inside the other man and doing this has his head spinning and he slowly pulls out and away, sitting on the other end of the couch with a shuddering exhale. His entire body is limp, sweat coating his back and thighs, and breath coming in fast deep inhales, trying to call the thundering his heart was making in his head.

Overwhelming everything else is the feeling that this rushed sex in the middle of a crowded club with a breathtaking man that is basically a stranger was the best sex of his life. Cas feels sick.

*

Dean feels Cas pulling back, out and the sound he made at that is deep-throated, almost inhuman. He takes his time just breathing, calming down, before turning on his back and crawling up, until he is leaning against the armrest, looking over at Cas. A small smile spreads on his face at the look of the spent man across him and he reaches out a hand to stroke Castiel’s calves.

“That was.. just… wow”, he eventually says, licking his lips and leaning his head back, laughing at the ceiling. Cause really…. there are no other words, especially not now, the post-sex haze still clouding Dean’s mind.

When he looks back up, Cas is still in the same position, his face kind of emotionless and for the first time this evening, Dean feels uncomfortable and kind of worried. He spreads his legs wide, wrapping them around Cas’ body and stretches out a hand, motioning Cas to come closer.

“C’mere..”  
*  
Castiel’s mind swirls, the haze of alcohol and sex filling him, and for a minute he lets himself be pulled closer, goes willingly back into Dean’s arms and wraps an arm around the man, leaning in to kiss him again, a slow shudder going down his back where his shirt was now sticking to his muscles from the sweat.

The voice in the back of his head speaks up again, this time more insistent, louder and doesn’t go away like before.

‘This is wrong, you need to leave, you need to get out now!’

He stiffens in Dean’s arms then, breaking the kiss as a feeling of dread sweaps over him, eyes widening as it seems to finally dawn on him what exactly he just did.

“…shit”, he whispers, eyes wide as he looks at Dean.

*

Dean feels Castiel stiffen, feels him slide away and opens his eyes, still too caught up in the gentle kiss they had just shared, to realize what was happening. He blinks a few times through the veil of beads of sweat on his eyelashes until he sees clearly enough to realize it’s panic that’s distorting Castiel’s face.

“Hey, hey.. what’s going on?”, he asks and his voice is quiet, soothing, his hand gently holding Castiel’s upper arm, as he tries to figure out what had changed in the last few seconds.

“Anything wrong?”  
*  
Castiel bites his lower lip and stands up, disentangling himself from Dean as gently as he can so he can grab his clothes, dressing rapidly. He tucks himself, condom and all, back into his jeans and backs away from the couch, staring at Dean, his eyes flickering through emotions.

“I’m… Jesus Christ…. I’m sorry…”

He huffs out a breath, makes himself calm down just enough to look Dean in the eyes, swallows down the disgust he feels at himself for what he just did as the alcohol fades away.

“I have to go, this… this was a mistake, I’m sorry, I…I can’t…”

He brushes a hand through his hair, mouths ‘I’m sorry’ again, his eyes pained, and then he’s out the door, shutting it quietly behind him, leaving Dean alone in the room.

*

Dean can’t quite process what’s happening, doesn’t realize that he’s just being dumped in the worst way possible, until Castiel is out the door. He lies there, five minutes, ten, twenty. When he finally moves, he feels cheap, filthy, like a whore. He’s had so many one night stands before but never, not once, he’d been treated like this. It hurts, and the sudden realization hits him like a sledgehammer. The sex had been awesome, hell, it had been easily the best sex he’d ever had. And now? He’s lying on a sticky couch in the back part of the fucking gay club he’s so familiar with and he feels lost and alone. He finally gets up, puts on his briefs and pants and walks over to the door. He looks back once more, as if Castiel was still there, as if by looking back he could somehow turn back time, try to change things… he doesn’t even know what he did wrong…

He leaves the Haight that night, not in the mood for any other dates, not even in the mood for sex. When he shuts the door of his and his younger brother Sam’s apartment, it’s 3 am and Dean wonders, when he last came back this early from the club. He sinks into bed fully-clothed and stares at the ceiling, until sleep finally overpowers him, his dreams torturing him with with deep moans and heady gasps and one name being said over and over.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel doesn’t even wait for Gabriel to be done dancing for the night, just texts him that he has a headache and is going home as he’s barreling out the door. It’s not a long walk to a nearby BART station, the regional transit train that travels underground through the city, and he’s lucky that he catches one of the last ones out of the city and into the sprawling suburb that is Daly City, where all the houses look just the same, two story boxes painted in puke worthy pastels. He goes up to the house he’s renting with Meg, and walks inside, thanking whatever deity it was that let her still be at her job waitressing down the street at a fancy club restaurant. He showers, flushing the used condom and feeling instantly sick as the memory of what he did comes rushing back.  
It wasn’t Dean that made him feel sick, no the green eyes and cocky smile, that sweet voice saying his name in such a breathy way, that had him almost hard again as he showers off the stench of the club.  
No, what made Cas sick was the idea that he’d just cheated on his girlfriend, and betrayed not only her trust but his parents. He was the straight son, the one they were pining all their hopes and dreams of a successful marriage and grandchildren on. And he’d just had mind blowing sex in a club with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, male or female.  
Cas goes to bed that night thinking of the lost look on Dean’s face as he’d practically run out the door, and wondering to himself if he’d ever see the man again.

Friday night drifts into Saturday morning, and Gabriel is calling him, despite it only being 8am. He refuses to take the call, and lays in bed all day, claiming a hang over when Meg tries to coax him out to take her shopping. She huffs out of the apartment and Cas stays in bed all day, thinking about a galaxy of freckles and smooth planes of muscle, and feeling sick to his stomach at the realization that maybe he just wasn’t as straight as he’d originally thought.

Sunday comes far too quickly, and he spends the entire day getting ready for Monday, the first day of school, and his first day teaching art at the High School in the city, something for under privileged that had nowhere else to go. Monday would come far too fast for his taste, but Castiel still road the BART train into work and got into his spacious classroom, with 18’ ceilings and drop down fans, large windows with chipping paint that let the morning light in, and far too little art supplies for the 4 classes he would be teaching a day.

He sighs, and gets to work, rolling up the sleeves on his blue button up and taking off the charcoal vest to hang it on his chair. The entire classroom needed to be swept and cleaned, and he had an hour before class, he may as well make the most of it. By the time he’s done Castiel’s formerly neat hair is mussed, hanging over his forehead in haphazard spikes, and he’s unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, opened the back door to let a breeze in as he’s sweating just slightly despite the fall morning air. The classroom though, looks much better. The high tables that are placed evenly around the room seat four students each, on high stools that would barely let kids touch the ground if they were seated on them. Each station boasts a minimum of four different mediums to experiment with, from crayons and pastels to colored pencils, pens and acrylics. There was a long line of cabinets filled with broken or half used supplies, shelving units used for storing drying paintings, and a movable stage in the back covered in threadbare blue carpet for life drawing. Castiel smiles to himself and leans against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it. For the first time since Friday night, he could breath easy.

*

You know that something’s off when Dean Winchester refuses to have pie for breakfast.

Sam stands in the doorframe of his older brother’s room, frowning deeply at the crouched form on the bed. He wants to ask what had happened, wants to figure out how to cheer his brother up, but knows as good as nobody else, that when Dean didn’t want to talk, it would be impossible to get through to him. Dean isn’t himself all weekend and Sam has a hard time convincing him to leave the house on Monday morning. Dean doesn’t care about grades that much but even he couldn’t deny how incredibly stupid it would be to miss his first day of his last highschool year.

So when he leaves the house, dressed in tight jeans, a white polo shirt and the leather jacket he’d inherited from his dad and feels the warmth of the sun through the windscreen of his 1967 Chevy Impala, he feels only slightly better. He steers the classic car on the parking lot of the high school, gets out and locks the doors. It’s a nice day and Dean hates that he’s gonna spend most of it inside, pretending to study…

He’s early, not many people hang out around the schoolyard so Dean decides to have a smoke before the day begins. He turns around the corner, heading for the backside of the building, where no paths lead, just green grassland and trees, perfect for hiding from nosy teachers. He reaches a secluded spot, right on the other side of what seems like the art room - his first subject on that day and as he lights his cigarette, he steps to an open window to peek inside. He lets his eyes wander over the neatly organized art supplies, the chairs pulled up to the tables in a perfect line and the blackboard, where it says in delicate letters “Mr Novak”.

Dean frowns, wondering when was the last time he’d seen a teacher writing down his name for the class and smiles, softly shaking his head. That’s when his eyes fall on the person leaning against the desk at the front of the room and his breath catches in his throat.

”..Cas-?!”  
*  
There’s the faintest hint of cigarette smoke on the air, and Castiel frowns, sniffing, trying to pinpoint where it’s coming from. He turns his head toward the open door and the bank of chest high windows just in time to hear a rather indignant exclamation of a nickname he didn’t call himself. ‘Cas?!’, the voice said, and Castiel felt his heart stop as immediately he recognized the green eyed beauty through the window, without even trying.

Friday night’s events came rushing back, sending him into a tail spin of emotion, lust and disgust being the forefront, making his heart and stomach clench and dip at the same time. Castiel swallows hard and surges to the door and around it, standing in the morning dew that still graces the small strip of lawn just outside the classroom before the ground becomes the pavement of the student parking lot.

“….Dean?….W..what are you doing here?”

He frowns, not understanding, head tilted and brow furrowed in utter confusion.

“….Did you…did you follow me?”

It was incredulous really, to think the man had followed him from the club home, staked out his house, and then managed to follow him here again, two full days later. It was a stupid thought… but what else was there? San Francisco was a rather large city, and the odds of this man showing up at his classroom on his first day of school were astronomical.

*

Dean huffs out a laugh at this comment and takes another drag of his cigarette before answering with an amused “I was just about to ask you the same question…”

There’s a moment of silence and Dean takes it as a chance to let his eyes roam over the other man’s body. He can say for sure that he likes Castiel better in jeans but the slacks he’s wearing now are not too bad either. The shirt on the other hand was a whole different story. Blue, fucking cobalt blue, matching the fucker’s eyes perfectly and making Dean impossibly hard just by remembering how Castiel’s eyes had literally sparkled, when he came inside of him, thrusting and panting and… He clears his throat, a smile spreading on his lips, as he raises the cigarette to them once more.

“So you’re a teacher? My teacher… what are the odds, huh?”  
*  
Castiel gapes at Dean, eyes widening as he registers what the man actually just said.

“Wait, what? You- you’re in high school?!”

Castiel feels his chest tighten in terror, the realization that he had sex not with a man on Friday night, but with a boy. A teenage boy. He flushes and takes a shaky step backwards, leaning away from Dean unconsciously.

“How old are you…? Please tell me you’re 18, for the love of god…”

*

Dean chuckles at the obvious shock on Castiel’s face and throws his cigarette on the ground, leaning further down on the windowsill and into Cas’ personal space.

“Don’t worry teach, you didn’t do anything illegal.”

He licks his lips, watching a droplet of sweat running down the man’s neck and disappearing into the slightly opened shirt.

“And even if you were… it was completely consensual, remember?”

He leans in closer to breath his last words against the man’s skin, noticing goosebumps forming with a shiver of satisfaction.

“You felt so good, Cas… but you know what? I would’ve let you fuck me without protection if you wanted it.”  
*  
Castiel flushes even darker at Dean’s words, his breath hitching in his throat as ghosted breath goes over his cheek and ear. The warm breath broke back flashes of Dean’s writhing body on top of Castiel, riding him with the utmost enthusiasm, body shaking with each thrust of his hips down onto Cas’ cock. Castiel took a step back and cleared his throat, shaking his head to rid himself of the memory of plush lips moaning his name.

“I-… D-Dean, we can’t do this… I’m your teacher.”

He backs up another step and straightens up with an effort and turns around to go back inside. He clears his throat, adjusting himself in his pants discretely as he rounds his desk to sit down, trying his hardest to banish thoughts of Friday night and how fantastic Dean had felt, from his lips to his hands to his voice caressing Castiel everywhere.

*

Dean sighs and brushes a hand through his short hair, before following Castiel inside and sitting down on top of his desk.

“You know… you’re not a very good liar, Cas”, he says, crossing his legs and leaning back, tilting his head back to look at Castiel “You say you don’t want me but I know you do. What I don’t get is: why you’re making this so hard… pun intended, by the way.”

He cocks an eyebrow at the way Castiel is tensing up, his hands cramped in his lap and chuckles slightly.

“You already slept with me, so what’s the harm in doing it again?”  
*  
Castiel stiffens and glares up at Dean, his eyes dangerously dark.

“That was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened…. I was drunk, and wasn’t thinking clearly.”

He stands up and walks to the back of the classroom to busy himself with a cabinet. This was a fucking nightmare. Last night he and Meg had sex, and the only thing Cas could think of when he came was green eyes and a cocky smile. The guilt was piling up, instead of waning as time went by. Cas sighs gently as he opens a cabinet, looking up at the wall. Shit- there was still 15 minutes before class. Hopefully other students would start trickling in soon, and he wouldn’t be alone with the object of his lust anymore.

*

Okay, if Dean is totally honest - and he almost never is - that actually kind of hurts. It’s not like Cas is the only guy in the world Dean had let fuck him, after all. But hearing that he thought of it as a mistake, of a one-time thing was a little bit too much for his ego.

“You weren’t that drunk”, he says, sounding more confident than he feels and hopping off the table, walking a few steps into Cas’ direction, but stopping.

“So what you’re saying is… you have no interest in me… at all?”

He frowns, leaning against the wall near the door and looking at the other man with a puzzled expression. That really never happened before. Sure he had gotten dumped a few times but never, never ever after having the most mind-blowing sex…  
*  
Castiel pauses in what he’s doing, body still as he thinks about what Dean just said. If Castiel was honest with himself, and he always tries to be, there was no way he wasn’t interested in Dean, his body betrayed him every time the boy spoke out loud.

“… I have a girlfriend.”

He kept his back to Dean, but his voice was quiet, as if he was trying his hardest to come up with a reason, any reason, why they couldn’t do this. Why Castiel couldn’t let this happen again.

*

Ouch. Okay…

Dean’s frown deepened and he bit his lower lip, watching the other man working, moving around, trying his hardest to look busy and undetached.

“So what? She doesn’t let you fuck her so you think you can just go and break some hearts in a gay club?”

His voice is teasing, amused, but in his mind there’s a voice screaming, yelling at Cas how unfair this is, how cruel. He’d had him once and now he would see him practically every day at school. Knowing that he probably wouldn’t get the chance to feel his perfect cock inside of him once again, pissed him off. Dean usually isn’t comfortable with being “the other guy” but for once in his life, he wouldn’t mind that much… There’s just something about this guy, something he can’t seem to get enough of. After how their last encounter had ended, Dean had thought he wouldn’t see Castiel ever again - and now that he’s standing only a few feet away, Dean isn’t allowed to touch…

There’s a sudden sound as the classroom door opens and a group of people walks in, some of them greeting Dean, before sitting down in the middle of the rows. Dean sighs with resignation and turns around, following their example and sitting down on a chair in the first row.  
*  
Castiel is about to respond to Dean, tell him that he’s been dragged out there by his gay brother, and that Dean had been the one to initiate everything, the one to push and push until Cas caved. He doesn’t speak though, half because he feels guilty anyway, and half because in the next moment a group of students walk in and Castiel starts at the interruption, before breathing a sigh of relief.

He walks back to the front of the classroom to sit down watching as more and more student walk in, and soon the bell rings, a few students slipping in at the last second and grinning apologetically to Castiel.

“Alright everyone, my name is Castiel Novak, you can call me Mr. Novak, Castiel, or Teach, if you must, and I’m going to be you art teacher this year.”

*

Dean doesn’t really pay attention to Castiel’s first lesson. Sure, he likes art, chose this course over Spanish this year but he doesn’t want to give Castiel the satisfaction of giving in too soon. Instead of taking notes and listening to what the teacher says, Dean leans back in his chair, watching him intently, flicking out his tongue to wet his lips, whenever Cas looks his way. He loves the way, his teacher is blushing when he first notices and from then on tries to hide how flustered Dean’s attention really makes him. When the bell rings, Dean is almost positive to hear a sigh of relief of his teacher. While all the other students get up and leave the room hurriedly, Dean stays where he is, packing his stuff provocatively slow.  
*  
Castiel bustles about the classroom, trying his hardest to ignore Dean, and the rush of arousal now that they were alone again. The little shit had been openly flirting with him the entire period, spending the hour licking his lips and arching a brow at Castiel. It had been incredibly hard not to GET hard while talking to the class with Dean doing that at every chance. Now, with Dean being the last one in the classroom, Castiel knew he would have to stay busy, and hope that Dean took the hint and left. He started cleaning up each station, putting all the supplies back into the appropriate trays. He keeps moving, not holding still as he shuffles papers and pencils around, his hair even messier than before from Cas brushing it off his forehead in a nervous motion.

*

When his bag is packed, Dean gets up slowly, leaving it lying on his table and moving to the back of the room, where Castiel is stuffing a roll of cartridge paper into the cupboard. Coming to a halt right behind the older man, Dean puts his hands on the shelves to either side of Cas’ body, trapping him effectively and smiling at the shocked gasp that escapes Castiel’s lips. The other man doesn’t turn around, doesn’t want Dean to see how this affects him - at least that’s what Dean’s sure this is about - and Dean’s smile widens, as he steps closer, pressing his body flush against his teachers, letting him feel the obvious bulge in his pants.

“You look really, really hot with your hair like this, you know?”, he whispers into Castiel’s ear, warm breath puffing over shivering skin “I’ve been hard for an hour now, teach… you wanna do anything about it?”  
*  
“…Dean… Y-you’re going to be late for your next class….”

Castiel’s entire body seems attuned to Dean’s, the closeness affecting his breathing and sending a jolt of fire straight to his loins. It was intense, this amount of attraction to someone. Cas had never felt this breathless just to be around someone, just to hear them speak in his ear.

“Please-….I need you to leave.”

He sets the papers in his hand down on the shelf in front of him and grips the edge of it, shutting his eyes and silently praying that Dean would listen to him, and take his gorgeous cocky smile away, before Castiel made another mistake. A mistake he never thought he would make even once in his life, nonetheless twice within a week. Meg didn’t deserve this, and his parents… ‘think of Mother and Father, Castiel….’ he thinks to himself, and squeezes his eyes even tighter shut.

*

Dean clicks his tongue disapprovingly, raising one of his hands to trail it down Castiel’s spine teasingly.

“That really should be the least of your worries, teach”, he says, as he brushes his lips over the skin of Castiel’s neck, feels the man shiver and buck back into Dean’s touch, despite his dismissive words.

A smile spreads on Dean’s lips and he leans forward, nibbling at Castiel’s earlobe for a moment before pulling back abruptly. He removes his hand from Castiel’s back and turns on his heel, walking back to the table he left his bag at and over to the door.

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Novak.”

When Dean exits the room, he feels Castiel’s eyes on him and despite still being rock hard and untouched, Dean feels more sastisfied than he had in a long time…  
*  
Castiel spends his morning classes trying to ignore the gnawing want in the pit of his stomach, thoughts of Dean dancing in his head. His earlobe felt scorching hot for an hour after Dean left, and his cock refused to remain soft through his classes. By lunch time he was a frazzled mess, and was glad that he was done for the day once he cleaned up his classroom at lunch. Other than being aroused practically every second of the day, his first day as an art teacher had gone well. There was only a handful of trouble makers in each class, and only a few that were going to be a serious problem. Overall, he was happy. The students had seemed enthusiastic and happy, drawing and painting in free time after Castiel had explained what the year would be like in his class, and talked a bit about himself to let his students get to know him some. Now he was cleaning up and setting up for tomorrow’s project which would be a still life of various objects on each table.

*

Dean decides to skip his maths lesson after lunch and leaves his classmates without saying a word, strolling around the building to the backside, where he had spotted Cas the first time this morning. The teacher is still in the room and Dean leans against a tree, watching him arranging some stuff on the tables with a look of deep concentration on his face. After a while Castiel grabs his bag and leaves the room, closing and locking the door behind him and Dean too leaves. He sees Castiel heading off the campus, past the parking lot and follows him quickly. When he sees the man walking down the stairs to the train station, Dean huffs in disappointment. He couldn’t risk missing his whole afternoon schedule, just to stalk his one-night-stand slash teacher.  
The rest of the day goes by quite uneventful and when Dean comes home around 5, Sam is already there, preparing dinner.

“So, how was your first day of school?”, he asks in this typical superior parent-y voice and Dean rolls his eyes at him, slumping down in the chair and opening a can of beer and taking a huge gulp.

“I fucked this one guy on Friday night”, he says and Sam drops the knife he had been holding.

“Dude… seriously?!”

“Sam. You’re gonna like this. Promise.”

Sam frowns, picking up the knife again and continues cutting onions, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.

“Now guess who’s my new art teacher?”  
*  
Castiel spends the evening avoiding talking about his day in too much detail, but Meg doesn’t even seem to notice, as she’s too wrapped up in the latest gossip of what happened at her work. One of the new servers was sleeping with one of the busboys, but had walked in on her busboy being sucked off by one of the chefs.

“Can you even imagine?! Having the guy you’re with not only cheat on you, but do it with another guy?!”

Castiel stiffens, tuning in to the conversation for the first time entirely. He swallows and smiles meekly.

“Is it worse that it was a guy?”

Meg snorts and looks at Cas like he’s a moron.

“Duh.”

“But… Why?”

She stares at him, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing, before huffing and tossing her dark hair over her shoulder.

“Because that’s disgusting. It means the guy is practically a fag-“

Castiel’s eyes widen and he stares at Meg as she desperately tries to backpedal.

“I mean- he just, it’s just so wrong…”

Castiel slept on his side of the bed that night, pretending to be asleep when Meg came in and tried to touch him and move him toward making love. She knew Gabriel, and knew that while Castiel’s parents hated that Gabriel was gay, Castiel himself didn’t care; he still loved his brother.

*

As expected, Sam takes the news not too well. There’s the usual amount of scolding, of warning Dean how dangerous and wrong this is but Dean just goes deaf. They watch some game show and Sam excuses himself around 10 pm, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts in the dark living room. His mind travels back to last Friday, to the way Castiel had been all shy and reluctant, but opening up to him as soon as their lips touched. Dean turns off the TV and heads to the bathroom, slipping out of his clothes and stepping under the shower. Leaning his head back against the cool tiles, he finally touches himself, releasing the tension that had built up all day. When he falls to bed that night, he’s exhausted but motivated. He’s going to make Castiel realize what he’s missing, what his girlfriend obviously couldn’t give him…

He doesn’t have art class the next day, but spends a fair amount of time looking for and following his new teacher around. At lunch break, Dean finds Castiel in the back of the art room, unwrapping a tuna sandwich and looking down at an issue of some art magazine. Walking up to him as quiet as possible, Dean manages to sneak up unnoticed and when he leans down and his hot breath ghosts over the teacher’s neck, he sees him shiver.

“Good afternoon, Mr Novak.”  
*  
Gabriel had called again during one of the breaks between classes today, and Castiel had finally explained that he really did just have a headache, and had to go home that night, but that he had enjoyed himself, and that Gabriel was a good brother, despite what the over dramatic man on the phone was proclaiming in a whining voice. They laughed a bit and Castiel promised to see him later that week, and Gabriel was satisfied.

‘It’s sad, how easy it is to keep something like this from people…’, Cas thinks to himself, while taking out his lunch. It’s disturbing that you could betray everyone in your life in less than an hour, and no one would be the wiser about it if you just kept your mouth shut. ‘I just have to make sure I don’t slip up again. I can’t do that to Meg, and my parents…It’s just…wrong.’  
Then there’s a voice in his ear and he starts, startled out of his thoughts by warm breath and that silken deep voice. Castiel scrambles away from Dean off the stool, almost tipping it over as he goes.

“J…Jesus Christ, Mr. Winchester… you can’t do that to people.”

He tries to laugh it off, holding a hand to his chest, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. Cas walks back to the table and sits back down on his stool, setting his lunch down and beckoning Dean to take the seat across from him.

“….You don’t have class with me today…what brings you by? Did you have questions on the assignment?”

It had been an easy one, just write down your favorite artists, and why they influenced you, or inspired you. Something to get a feel for where each student was in not only their art history, but where each student’s tastes where.

*

Dean smiles at Cas’ reaction and takes his invitation to sit down on the other side of the table.

“Mmh… no, no not really, teach….”, he says with fake pondering and then shrugs his shoulders “I jerked off last night thinking ‘bout you.”

Castiel chokes on his sandwich and Dean leans back in the chair, letting his gaze wander around the classroom absentmindedly. When he looks at his teacher once again, Castiel’s cheeks are flushed red and Dean really starts to love this look on him. Leaning forward on the table and catching Castiel’s eyes, Dean purses his lips and cocks an eyebrow at him.

“How about you stop pretending last Friday didn’t happen… and let me show you how much I missed you?”

He reaches out then, taking Castiel’s hand and lowering his lips to suck one of his fingers in, tongue grazing over the warm skin, eyes closed.  
*  
Castiel’s eyes widen as Dean takes his hand, but the minute the boy’s mouth closes around his finger, a jolt of pleasure shoots straight down his spine to his cock, stiffening rapidly in his slacks. A surprised moan escapes his lips before he can stop it, eyes fluttering shut as Dean works his talented mouth over his finger. The brush of teeth down his skin makes Castiel squirm, his pants much tighter than just a moment ago, and when Dean looks up and locks those beautiful green eyes on Castiel’s own, it’s all Cas can do to gulp down the guttural groan that wants so badly to escape.

‘He’s going to be the death of me’, Cas thinks, as he licks his lips and speaks in a quiet, hoarse voice.

“Dea-…. Mr. Winchester…”

He clears his throat and pulls his hand back, hiding how it trembles by clenching it into a fist in his lap, pressing it against his hardon and trying to hide the shudder that runs through his body.

“We… regardless of what happened on Friday night… we can’t… I can’t do this. You’re my student now.”

He swallows hard and looks down at his unfinished sandwich.

“And I can’t…. I won’t do this.”

Castiel’s voice is weak though, quiet as if he was struggling to even give voice to his protests.

*

Dean listens to Cas’ half-hearted excuses, the words as weak as his physical restraint. When the teacher ends Dean nods and raises his hand to his own lips, tracing them with the finger that had been into Castiel’s mouth only seconds ago. His tongue darts out, licking along the digit, his eyes never leaving the other man. He can see how aroused Cas is and how Dean’s every move makes it even worse and he enjoys it to no end. Finally he puts his hand back into his lap, palming his own erection gently and looking at Castiel part frustrated, part amused.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, teach…”

He gets up then, turning around and bending down to grab his bag, so that Castiel has the best view possible of Dean’s ass.

“See you tomorrow.”  
*  
The second Dean leaves the room Castiel adjusts himself, letting out a soft gasping whimper at the pain of his cock pressing hard against his zipper. It was insane how Dean Winchester, his male student, TEENAGER, was making him feel like this. He was constantly on edge, and had spent most of the day trying hard not to think about Dean, and failing. Cas sighs and runs a hand over his face, deciding that he was going to have to figure something out, because this wasn’t going well. He felt uncomfortable, knowing that all Dean had to do was arch a brow and his body eagerly responded. The rest of the day goes quickly, getting ready for yet another life drawing assignment, then going shopping for groceries at the shopping center down the street from where he lived. Castiel’s guilt was eating away at him, and he somehow rationalized that being extra attentive to Meg could help. At least a little bit. So he shopped for ingredients for dinner, his mind constantly looping it’s way back to Dean and his freckles, his cocky smile, the way he had seemed to listen with rapt attention while Castiel had told the class about the personal passions of art history, rock climbing, and a well made cheeseburger.

*

Dean spends the rest of the week proceeding just as he had started. Whenever he and Cas ‘coincidentally’ met in the hallways, Dean made sure to demonstrate just what he was missing and the lessons were borderline torture. Dean had occupied the chair in the middle of the last row in every lesson, a place Castiel had direct view on and Dean thought of new ways to seduce his teacher almost every day. After a long and exhausting weekend, filled with hours-long masturbation and wet dreams, Dean is back in Castiel’s art room, sitting in his chair, waiting for his teacher to look his way. He had decided to go one step further today. Last week he’d stopped at touching himself through his jeans but Castiel hadn’t cracked - so when Dean pops the button of his pants open and slides a hand down to palm his erection through his boxers, he studies Castiel’s face attentively. His own eyes fall shut, as he pushes his hand past the boxers, cool fingers ghosting over hot skin and eliciting a small gasp.  
*  
Castiel’s eyes widen for a split second and he licks his lips nervously before clearing his throat and continuing his lesson, voice just slightly deeper and rougher than before. He walks past Dean as he’s walking round the room, talking, and leaves a note in front of the boy, being careful not to touch him as he walks away. The note is simple, written in Castiel’s neat handwriting. ‘see me after class’ The rest of the class passes quickly and when the bell rings and students file out one by one, Castiel knows that Dean will stay, so he doesn’t bother looking to the back of the room to check before he shuts the door to his classroom, and locks it. Castiel turns around, eyes dark and his heart has vacated his chest and decided to live in the middle of his throat, making it almost painfully tight and hard to speak.

“Mr. Winchester.”

He beckons to the boy to join him at the front of the room, and leans against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. Castiel doesn’t look that relaxed, stiff posture matching his black slacks, gray long sleeve shirt and black vest.

*

When Cas slips him the note, Dean smiles to himself, pulling his hand back and tucking himself back in, waiting impatiently for the end of the lesson. The bell rings, the classroom empties and Dean feels his chest tighten, when Castiel gets up and locks the door behind the last student. He follows his beckoning, standing up and walking down the aisle in between the tables slowly, eyes locked on his teacher’s stiff form, his blue eyes fixed on Dean’s green. He comes to a halt less than two feet away from him, tilting his head down slightly, that provoking smile still on his lips.

“You wanted to see me, Mr Novak?”  
*  
Castiel narrows his eyes at Dean, trying his hardest to look unamused and irriated, even though he has a feeling Dean was starting to be able to see right through his fronts.

“Dean… You can’t keep doing this. Your flirtation is inappropriate, and is going to get us both in trouble.”

He frowns at Dean and slouches just a bit against the desk.

“…why are you even doing this? You’re a good looking kid, you could have your pick of any of your fellow students at this school….”

Castiel let’s his arms fall to his sides, shoulders slumping visibly, a tired expression falling over his face as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Dean… I don’t want to kick you out of my class…but someone is going to notice your… antics…”

*

Dean listens to Cas’ words, then lowers his head, looking down on his body where his hands are balled to fists. He can see his arms slightly shaking and when he looks back up, he sees Castiel’s lower lip trembling, as well.

“Oh, trust me, teach… I know of the… effect I have on people… and I know that you’re no exception.”

He keeps his hand to himself this time, his mind set on the task of urging Castiel to do something, anything on his own.

“You know… I have no problem with you kicking me out. But it’s not going to get you rid of me. I told you before, Cas - I want you. And I always get what I want.”  
*  
Castiel gapes at Dean, the utter confidence the boy exuded was beyond cocky, verging on arrogance. He frowns, licks his lips and then stands up and away from the desk, hands on his hips as he looks up the short distance to stare into Dean’s eyes.

“… And if I gave in? What then? I get to fuck you again?”

Castiel takes another step toward Dean, then another and pushes his hands out, shoving the boy with each step forward back toward the nearest wall. He pins Dean there, hands on Dean’s shoulders gripping tight.

“Would you tire of me then? If I gave in and took you here in my classroom, hard and fast like in the club, fucked you until you were raw and shaky- would you be satisfied then?”

Castiel frowns, face contorted in anger as he snarls at Dean, at the end of his rope after a week of constant teasing and inappropriate daydreams and fantasies. Every one of them had been fueled by the freckled menace in front of him, in different positions and places, but always willing, always eager, always shouting Cas’ name when he came. His heart is racing, breath coming in shuddering inhales as his eyes search Dean’s. Cas hesitates for another moment, then rushes in and kisses Dean, his body flush to the other’s, hands on either side of Dean’s face holding him tight.

*

Dirty talk, huh? Who knew…

Dean lets Castiel pass, lets him fuck his mouth like they both know he had wanted to for weeks now. His own hands lie still and flat against the wall behind him, as the other man’s tongue slides in his mouth and deepens the kiss further. It takes a while, minutes even, until Cas is pulling back, panting and shuddering and looking absolutely ravished, his lips dark red and puffy from kissing.

“No”, Dean finally breathes out, his eyelids fluttering as he feels arousal washing over his body, feels how a single kiss could affect him “No, I wouldn’t… and you - you wouldn’t want me to, either, teach, would you?”

This time there’s no cocky smile, no smugness, no superior behavior. In this very moment it’s plain obvious how much Dean wants this man and how much he’s willing to do for it and it scares him. It’s the first time Dean realizes how lost he is, how desperate to get Castiel to touch him, to want him.

He leans forward a bit, lips ghosting over the warm skin of Castiel’s cheek, his earlobe, as he whispers:

“Nobody needs to know..”  
*  
Castiel is lost too, lost to the feelings that are overtaking his body with each breath, each inhalation that’s filled with Dean’s scent. It makes him feel out of control, body shaking more than he’d ever known it to, more turned on than he’d ever been. Cas moans against Dean’s neck and grinds his hips against the boy’s, eyes shutting as his hands grip against the wall, scratching over the yellowing paint with dull fingernails.  
“Dean…-”

The bell rings in the next moment, and there’s a loud pounding on the door as the next class of students try to enter the locked room, and are unable to. Cas pulls himself away from Dean, blushing furiously as he adjusts himself quickly and walks over to the door.

He checks to make sure that Dean has pulled himself together, then opens the door to let the group in, smiling and nodding to everyone as they bustle in, groups of 2 and 3, to take their seats. Cas looks up at Dean and nods curtly, once, and then walks to the front of the class and addresses the students that had started walking in.

“Alright everyone take your seats, we don’t have much time this period, we have to get through a lot of material today!”

He looks up at Dean as the boy leaves the room, swallowing hard around the surge of arousal that goes through him as he tastes Dean on his lips when he licks them.

*

Dean groans in disappointment, when the bell rings and Cas opens the door for his next class. He makes his way over to the exit, stopping once he’s standing in the doorframe and turning around one more time. His hand is on his hips, just inches away from the center of his body. His eyes are lidded, as he mouths “Catch you later” and leaves the room.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the day goes by painfully slow. Dean hangs in his chair, staring out of the window or on the clock right above the door, waiting, anticipating. When the bell finally rings, he’s gotten himself a detention for the next day for not paying attention and refusing to answer a question directed at him but he doesn’t care. He’s been hard all day, practically on the verge of coming in his pants, just from thinking back to the husky voice of his teacher, the way Cas had kissed him, hungrily, desperately and completely out of control. He exits the room, walking down the hallway on shaky legs to wait in front of the teacher’s lounge. Castiel has to come by here at some point, right?  
*  
Having only four classes a day, Castiel was done by lunch time, so by the end of the day he was normally long gone, having finished cleaning up his classroom, grading papers, and setting up for the next day by 2pm at the latest. Today, however, had taken twice as long, so he was finally done around 4pm, and walked by the Teacher’s lounge to collect his mail.

To his utter surprise, he recognizes the figure sitting on the bench just outside the room, and pauses just slightly, before continuing to walk on, straight past Dean and into the teacher’s lounge. He grabs his mail and sorts it, tossing a flier about a stupid bake sale for the football team and pocketing a letter from the principal about vacation pay. He walks back out a few minutes later and pauses beside Dean, staring at the stack of forms in his hands he had to finish for the personnel office by the next week. Cas licks his lips, and speaks in a quiet voice.  
“Do you have somewhere to be, Mr. Winchester?”

*

When Cas strides right past him, Dean can’t suppress a low chuckle. It seems like he was finally catching up on this little game. He waits a few minutes and when the teacher steps back outside, stopping a few feet away from him, Dean doesn’t get up, instead spreads his legs a bit and leans back, looking up into his teacher’s eyes.

“I don’t, Mr. Novak”, he says slowly, taking a deep breath and huffing it out audibly “My brother won’t be home until tonight and I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day… I’m so bored, Mr. Novak… isn’t there something you can… I dunno… give me to do?”  
*  
There’s the very slightest quirk of his lips at Dean’s cocky response, and Castiel can’t help but lick his lips slowly, darting his eyes to lock onto Dean’s.

“I am sure I can think of something, Mr. Winchester.”

He jerks his head to one side and then starts walking, back towards his classroom. Cas doesn’t stop until he makes it back to his classroom, not saying anything as he collects his bag and jacket, and then makes his way out to the teacher’s parking lot.  
Cas slows down as he reaches his car, a simple Toyota hatchback in a soft blue the color of the sky on a clear day, and unlocks the doors. He pauses then, pulling his phone out of his pocket and typing out a quick text to Meg, explaining he had to stay late tonight for a meeting with another teacher at school, and wouldn’t be home until later.

At this point, the guilt he felt about cheating on Meg, about betraying his parents, about everything that was wrong with this situation was out weighed by the way Dean had kissed him earlier in the day, the press of the boy’s body against his as he ground Dean against the wall. He wanted to care, wanted to stop himself, but Cas found he just couldn’t… Dean was like an addictive narcotic, slipping into his system and digging a hole in his life for Dean to live.

*

Dean follows him in good distance, waiting a few feet away until the teacher unlocked his car and put his bag and jacket on the backseat.

“Want me to hide in your trunk?”, he asks, raising an eyebrow and chuckling at Castiel’s expressiong, before adding “Just follow me.”

He walks over to his chevy, getting inside and turning around to see if Cas was watching him. He steers his car off the parking lot and on the street, watching Castiel doing the same and following him in his car. The fifteen minute drive over to his and Sam’s apartment seems painfully long today and when he finally pulls up on the sidewalk in front of the apartment complex, he’s having a hard time standing straight already, his usual bowlegged walk even more flashy. He takes the three steps up and into the entrance hall, over to the elevator, where he waits for the teacher to follow him, still a little unsure if he would actually do it.  
*  
The elevator comes down for Dean, and he steps inside, and has to hold it as the door tries to close three times before Cas walks up the steps and into the apartment complex’s entrance, eyes darting everywhere, nervously licking his lips. It had taken some convincing for him to even park, much less get out of the car and walk up the steps and into the apartment complex.

He steps into the elevator and stares at the dirty floor, his heart jumping into his throat as the door shuts and locks him into a tiny 4”x4” box with his student, someone he shouldn’t have indulged in the first place, in his classroom. And now? Now he was following the boy to his apartment.

Cas looks up at Dean, face blank of emotion for a moment, before he sighs, mutters ‘fuck it’ under his breath, and then slams the boy against the elevator wall. Cas crushes his mouth to Dean’s, a moan escaping his lips as the tension of the day melts away from the pressure of warm lips against his.

The rush of arousal that comes through him makes Cas stiffen rapidly as he kisses Dean, body shaking with need.

*

For a terrible minute, Dean stands in the elevator door, thinking that Cas had changed his mind, that he’d left and Dean would wait in vain. When he finally enters the building and slips in the elevator with him, a soft sigh escapes Dean’s lips and he can’t seem to tear his eyes apart from the handsome man. Seconds later he’s being pressed against the wall, hands roaming over his body, lips forcing his own open, tongues meeting and once more, Dean just can’t hold back, moaning into the other man’s mouth submissively.

He shoves his hand down into Castiel’s pants, palming his growing erection through the thin fabric of his shorts and biting on his lip. He feels his own hard-on pressing desperately against its confines and is torn between wanting the elevator to take its time, giving them the opportunity to touch and feel for just a little while longer, and for it to fucking hurry so that they could get inside the apartment and finally get it on. His second wish is granted all too soon, as the elevator ‘pings’, announcing their arrival on the top floor and Dean is all but shoving Cas outside, fumbling for his keys and unlocking the door, just to find himself being pressed against it seconds later. He feels Cas’ hands on his hips and on his prompt, Dean wraps his legs around Cas’ body, pressing their groins together, arms around his shoulders and clinging to him desperately, as they kiss like they’re starving.  
*  
Cas’ body was shaking from the need to be inside Dean again, having thought of it at least once an hour every day for the last week and some odd days since it had happened. Thinking of it like that was pathetic, to know that Dean could make Cas switch so easily, from faithful straight laced obedient boyfriend and son, to lust crazed cheating, gay, bastard. And Cas couldn’t try to care, couldn’t summon even an iota of guilt as he ground against Dean, hands gripping the boy’s ass and squeezing, mouth open to tangle his tongue with Dean’s.

Every second that he spent touching Dean made Cas’ head swim, made his entire body ache with arousal.

“Dean”, Castiel moans against the boy’s lips, eyes fluttering back open to look into Dean’s.

God, the things this kid could do with just a smile, the things he had convinced Castiel to do with just a word or two thrown his way. Dean was truly going to be the death of him, but in that moment, with Dean’s firm body under his greedy fingers, Cas knew it would be a sweet death.

“God, you-…”, Castiel shivers and moves his mouth to Dean’s neck, needing to taste, bite, lick.

“You taste so good….so beautiful…”

*

Dean tilts his head back, offering himself to Cas with a lewd moan and gasping at the touch of his tongue, his teeth to his neck. He swallows heavily, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, as his fingers grip Castiel’s shoulders tightly, nails digging in the smooth fabric of his shirt.

“I’m all yours, Cas… come on, taste me… take what you want..”

Seconds after the words left his mouth, Dean finds himself turned around, pressed against the door frame leading from the hallway to the living room and the moment he feels the cool wood in his back, he moans towards the ceiling, hips grinding against Cas’ in a desperate attempt to cause more friction.

“God, Cas… touch me, please… been too long…”  
*  
Castiel moves them into the living room, tumbling them onto the couch with Cas on his back, hands gripping Dean’s head and kissing him hard. Cas groans, pulling one hand down to cup Dean over his jeans, gripping firm through the thick denim fabric. The jolt of reality at the idea that he was grabbing someone else’s cock through their jeans has Castiel’s eyes widening for a split second, his breath catching in his throat, and he looks up and into Dean’s eyes.

It’s the wonder there, the utter inability to even process anything as Cas touches him lightly through the fabric, that’s what makes Cas smile instead of jump up and bolt from the apartment. He leans up and nips at Dean’s lip, pulling his other hand down to unbutton Dean’s jeans, the zipper loud in the quiet room. Cas looks back up into Dean’s eyes again, his own a little nervous at the idea of pleasing Dean with his hand. It was something that Cas had never done; and rightly so, as before his 29th birthday, before that night in the club with Dean, breathless and moaning with Dean’s body rocking beneath him, he had been completely straight.

Castiel had never looked twice at a man before Dean.

And now he was caught up in Dean, every hitch of breath and moan and sigh sending chills over his body. He shoves a hand deep into Dean’s shorts, work roughened hands closing around the hard on he found there with a light grip, breath sucking into his chest in a quick, surprised inhale.

His hand moves slowly, tentatively, as he explores Dean’s body one stroke at a time.

*

His eyes follow Castiel’s every movement now, lips trembling, as he feels his hand sliding down his body and towards the spot he so painfully craved him to touch. And then he does, unbuttons his pants and slides down the zipper, hand tracing a careful, a testing trail over Dean’s erection, making him shudder with anticipation and lust. A low moan escapes his lips, one hand gripping at Castiel’s arm, the other steadying himself by taking a hold of the couch beneath him. He feels his word shifting, wonders if he’d fall, if he could die from just a single touch, the eyes of the man beneath him roaming over his body as if he was something precious, something invaluable.

“C-.. oh.. Cas….”

His knees go weak, he groans uncontrollably. His hand’s coming up to cover his mouth, as his whole being concentrates on Cas’ hand, on the man’s slender, rough fingers, stroking him towards absolute bliss.  
*  
Castiel realizes that he doesn’t like this position, being pinned beneath Dean when he wants to do the pinning, so he flips them, hovering over the boy with one knee on the couch straddling Dean’s hips, and the other on the edge of the couch, his foot on the floor. He decides he likes this much better, as he gets to lean down and kiss Dean’s neck slowly, pressing hungry kisses and nips against the tender flesh, marveling at how hot the boy’s skin is beneath his chapped lips.

Dean has a unique smell, unlike any girl Cas had ever been with. There's nothing floral here, nothing vanilla or fruity. It's like a mixture of smoke and leather and car oil and something else, exotic, something Cas thought might just be the underlying natural scent of Dean. It makes him even harder, cock pressing against the zipper of his slacks as he mouths over the boy’s neck.  
Castiel stays quiet now, wanting to hear any and all noises that come from Dean’s kiss bruised lips as he experiments, slides his palm over the tip of Dean’s cock and then wraps his strong fingers around it and strokes down to the base, only to pull back up to the tip and press gently under the head with his thumb, gliding right beneath the purpled crown of his cock.  
Castiel’s eyes flicker everywhere, from Dean’s face down his still clothed body to his cock, barely jutting out of the opening of his jeans. He frowns and speaks, voice deep and husky, raw from all the arousal spiking in him.

“Take off your clothes.”

*

Dean doesn’t know how this is possible, but Castiel seems to be literally everywhere. His body’s pressing closer, letting him feel how close and how hard he was, his lips on his neck and his hand stroking his erection. He lets his mouth fall open, moaning deeply when Cas flips them around, hovering above him and guiding his hand down to touch - no, caress his cock once more. The raw voice breathing against Dean’s hot skin causes him to tense up, cock twitching with anticipation in Castiel’s hand, as Dean’s eyes fly open, focussing on the man above him. He clears his throat but it takes him a few seconds and tries, until he’s able to keep his voice steady enough.

“Why don’t.. why don’t you help me with that, big boy?”

He manages a semi-cocky grin, as he covers Castiel’s hand with his own, guiding him down to grab the waistband of his jeans, lifting his hips to make it easy for him to strip the clothing off him. When the pants along with his briefs are gone, Dean sits up just slightly, hands hooking under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, throwing it off somewhere out of sight, those few seconds when he can’t see the other man almost torturous. Then he’s back in Castiel’s personal space, swift fingers finding the buttons of his shirt, practically tearing it off his shoulders, before travelling down his torso, a trail of kisses following his hands, as they work his pants open. Pushing Cas back, he mirrors his movements, his pants soon joining Dean’s on the floor.

Crawling back to his previous position, Dean spreads his legs wide, lifting his hips slightly. He feels his cock twitching, his hole tensing at the knowledge of Cas watching and so he stays like this for a couple of seconds to let Castiel savour the view, before wrapping his legs around his hips and pulling him back in. His hands find Castiel’s face and keep him still, as he leans up to kiss him, deep and hungry. His tongue traces small droplets of sweat running down Castiel’s temples, his nose and Dean hums pleasantly at the salty taste of it. Everything about Castiel is aphrodisiac. When he pulls back, looking up into the other man’s face, he can see how their closeness affects him and licking his lips slowly, Dean speaks again.

“Now, Mr. Novak… I’m a little cold… and I feel so.. empty…”  
*  
As more and more beautiful tanned skin is revealed to Castiel’s hungry eyes, he can’t help but touch, caress, feel. Every inch of Dean was gorgeous, muscled and hard, covered in freckles and tiny scars here and there, which Castiel’s imagination supplied an adventurous young Dean getting into all kinds of trouble to receive them, but grinning wickedly even as he was bandaged up by his Mother. Did Dean even have a Mother? Castiel realized he knew next to nothing about the boy, and it made his chest tight, like there was something missing in this. He frowns slightly, but then Dean’s shirt is off and his pants and underwear are gone, and suddenly there’s a naked teenager in front of Castiel, grinning his head off as he watches Cas swallow hard and reach out again to touch him.

Dean stops him though, and begins taking off Castiel’s own clothes. Cas flushes bright red, quickly understanding that of course Dean would want him naked as well, but he had been mostly clothed in the club, only his pants around his ankles, but his shirt had remained on the entire time. He licks his lips and watches with wide too blue eyes as Dean works, so efficiently, to rid him of his slacks and button up shirt. The clothes are discarded, along with plain grey boxer briefs that hugged Castiel’s form so wonderfully, when they weren’t thrown on the ground as if they had personally offended Dean by covering Cas in any way.  
Cas hesitates, unsure what to do next, as normally Meg led in the bedroom, guiding Cas to do exactly what she wanted every time. His curiosity about Dean went deeper than just finally having freedom to do things his way. Dean was an enigma, wrapped in a coy smiling riddle that Castiel couldn’t wrap his head around. From what he’d heard from other teachers, Dean was a playboy, cocky to a fault, and seemed to relish getting in trouble for the sake of getting in trouble. He wasn’t stupid by any means, but didn’t seem to care enough to apply himself at anything. That was as much as Castiel could get from the other teachers without seeming too interested in one particular student, and Dean hadn’t really shown himself much more than that to Cas in the classroom either. In fact, Cas didn’t even know if Dean was being truthful in his art homework; he knew so very little about the green eyed beauty that was currently… laying himself out like a buffet for Castiel’s eyes.  
Cas swallows hard, mouth open in awe at how gorgeous Dean looked like this, legs spread and arms above his head, stretched out and breathing slowly. His eyes flick up to Dean’s face when the boy speaks, and Cas can’t help the flush that rises to his own face at the words he says. Dean seemed to enjoy teasing him… well, two could play that game.

Castiel kneels in the space between Dean’s thighs, his own brushing the inside of Dean’s just barely, the shock of skin on delicate skin electric. He shivers and then leans down and in, mouth hovering over the boy’s cock for a split second, before he presses his chapped lips to a hipbone, drags them dangerously slow up across Dean’s flat belly, dipping his tongue into the boy’s bellybutton before continuing on to bite at the bottom of his ribcage. Cas has his arms on either side of Dean’s waist, pinning him in place between them with a slight pressure. He continues this torture, slow and languid, up Dean’s torso. Kissing, licking, biting, and just breathing over the skin, watching as bruises bloom under the tan, nipples grow taut and bumped with warm breath shivering over them, and Dean’s chest rises and falls as his breathing becomes erratic. Still, Cas says nothing, just tasting and exploring the body beneath him, so different from anything he’s ever had before, so familiar to his own, and yet beautifully opposite. While Castiel was lean and pale, Dean was muscled and tan. Where Cas’ skin was almost blemish free and doused with a sprinkling of dark hair here and there, Dean’s was dotted with constellations of freckles, galaxies dancing over his shoulders and arms and chest, blonde hair sprouting from the skin that glistened in the afternoon sun that peeked through the curtains on the balcony sliding glass door. Cas was enthralled in this, the slow exploration of another body. It was a vast contrast to their heated exchange in the club, no longer as rough and frenzied, but just as passionate and needy.

*

It doesn’t take long until Dean’s squirming underneath Castiel, his breath coming in ragged gasps, sweat pooling on his forehead, his whole body. Cas is torturing him, a sweet, sweet torture that’s driving Dean fucking insane. And he’s watching. Dean was right about that. Castiel likes, no- loves watching. Dean would make some smug comment, some cocky remark - if only Cas wasn’t so damn good at this! Jesus Fucking Christ, is he good! Dean remembers their first time back in the club when everything had been about having fun, quick, messy and anonymous and a shiver runs down his spine as he dwells on the memory of feeling Cas inside of him, cock pulsing, vibrating, sending him over the edge….

Cas bites down on one of his nipples and Dean honest to god whines, hands gripping Cas’ shoulders and clawing at them hard, nails drawing blood. Castiel hisses but doesn’t move away, doesn’t stop or tells Dean to. He. Just. Keeps. Going. Fucking bastard. As shy and uncertain he had been just moments ago, only stepping inside the elevator after musing for minutes in his car, as confident and forceful he is now.

“Fuck… Cas… you trying to kill me?!..”  
*  
Castiel smiles and pulls back, hovering directly over Dean’s face to look down at him, moving his hands to either side of the boy’s face for better balance. He tilts his head to one side, voice feigning innocence when he speaks.  
“You’re the one that asked for this Dean…”  
He leans down, slowly, as if to kiss the boy, but darts to the side at the last second to lick at the shell of his ear, nibble on the lobe and moan softly.  
“Going to teach you patience…”  
Castiel figured if he was going to go to hell for this, for having sex with a gorgeous teenage boy while he had a girlfriend and homophobic parents… at least he could have a bit of fun while he did it. He reaches down and wraps a hand around Dean’s cock once more, slowly sliding it up and down, firm grip twisting just slightly, like Cas liked when he was alone.

Lately he’d been alone more and more, as Meg took longer shifts at her job, and he spent more time at home, waiting for her, and fighting his mind as it drifted back to Dean. He’d lost count of the number of fantasies and daydreams he’d had, but he had managed to block Dean out while he had sex with Meg… for the most part. It didn’t help that she had sex with the lights off, so it was so easy to imagine the panting being Dean’s, the hands gripping his hair male instead of female.

He bites along the boy’s jaw until he gets back to Dean’s lips, licking across the seam of them to beg entrance.

*

Dean groans in disappointment, frustrated to no end by the way Cas made this about punishment, about tormenting the boy until he barely could breathe.

“I don’t… don’t remember telling you to.. nghh… oh god, don’t stop!”

Cas had tightened his grip around Dean’s cock, thumb just gently stroking over the sensitive tip, making Dean buck underneath him, trying desperately to thrust up and into the older man’s hand. But Cas held him steady, clicking his tongue at Dean’s unsuccessful tries to regain a little bit of control, of pride. Dean gives up. He has no other choice. Cas is taking things painfully slow, teasing out high moans, eliciting feelings so terribly beautiful that it made Dean question his sanity. His whole body was shuddering, writhing beneath the dark haired beauty that looked down upon the young boy with bright, warm, oh-so-blue eyes like all he wanted was to eat him alive and cherish and worship him at the same time.

“C-cas…”, Dean all but whimpers, when he feels the grip loosen again, fingers only casually brushing over his cock, the change of sensations making his blood rush through his body, drumming in his ears, his chest constricting and his heart threatening to jump out of his chest “Cas..p-please…..”  
*  
Castiel chuckles slightly, brushing his lips over Dean’s ear again, voice rough with lust.  
“Please what, Dean?”  
He’s teasing and he knows. His own cock is jutting out against Dean’s thigh, hard and throbbing, aching for release, but he wants this to last, doesn’t want it to be over in half an hour like the last time they were together. In the back of his head there’s a voice that speaks out, says that this is the last time he’ll do this, that tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow Dean will have his curiosity fulfilled, and he would leave Cas alone, and then Cas could deal with this insane lust on his own. Because if Dean didn’t want it, it would be so much easier to tell himself no, to stop the fantasies and daydreams, right? That’s what would happen.

So for now he would enjoy this, every second that he got to touch the boy beneath him, the younger body hardened from work or play, muscles and tendons and bones aligning and working to create a fluid poetry that made up all Dean was. Castiel swallows hard and whispers against Dean’s ear, breath hot as it puffs out.  
“Tell me what you want…”

*

Castiel’s voice is rough next to his ear and Dean groans in frustration, annoyance, arousal - he’s not sure anymore.

“Jesus, do you want me to write it down?”, he snaps, his breath hitching in his throat. He sounds pathetic but he’s way beyond caring anymore.

“I want you to fuck me, Cas - get your beautiful cock inside me and make sure I can’t walk for a week!”

He’s always loved dirty talk but right now he just can’t take the time to silken his voice, to make it rough and deep and fucked out like he knows guys love it, like he knows Cas would love it too. He’s still shivering, his whole body tensing when Castiel’s cock brushes against Dean’s leg just slightly, causing him to moan uncontrollably.  
*  
Dean was impatient, and Cas figured that probably had to do with his age. He could remember being 18, or 19.. he didn’t even know how old Dean really was, now that he thought about it; but he could remember being a teenager, and needing to finish right then and there or he would die. Or so he thought. Now sex was more exciting to draw things out, make everything last longer, for hours, just touching and feeling, build everything up to a crest and then crash and tumble over into oblivion. The high you would get from holding out like that was incredible, and Castiel wasn’t going to let the teen’s impatience ruin this for both of them.  
“I will, Dean… have patience…”  
He kisses the boy again, chuckling softly, before licking the corner of Dean’s lips and looking into his eyes.  
“Get us protection and lube…”  
Lucky for Castiel, and Dean, he supposed… Meg was open to experimenting, on her terms. She’d brought up the idea of anal sex once or twice, and then just decided to do it one night. That ended in hours of pain for her and humiliation for both of them, as she hadn’t thought things through. The next time they were careful, and took quite a while before they actually went through with the actual act. Castiel knew how to prep someone so it wouldn’t hurt, it would just feel slightly uncomfortable, strange. Knowing how Dean had taken him the last time though, so easily, with just the lube from a condom, Castiel wondered how often the boy got fucked like this. A hot flash of red anger roared through Castiel at that thought, and he had to still himself, eyes wide at the foreign feeling that rushed over him. He was never jealous, it just wasn’t how he was. Even when people hit on Meg in front of him, even when she told him stories about people squeezing her ass in the restaurant, he never got mad about it… he never cared enough.

Something inside him rose up like red flag, a warning sign, but Cas quickly brushed it aside in favor of stroking a hand across the flat of Dean’s belly towards his cock, but skating away as Cas sat up to let Dean get up from the couch, leaning back against the back of the couch to watch the boy go.

*

Dean is almost crying by now. Castiel was really doing everything to make him beg, to make him suffer as long as possible and Dean sees no chance of convincing him to drop the act and just get going. So he obeys. Something he didn’t do lightly and not for everyone. But it’s not like Cas needs to know that, right?… When Dean gets up off the couch, his legs are shaking pathetically and he has to grab the armrest to steady himself, his head dizzy from lust and arousal. He licks his lips, trying to focus on the floor below him, taking a few shaky steps towards the door. Inside of his bedroom he’s rummaging through the drawers of his bedside table, pushing aside dozens of sex toys, anal beads, plugs and huge vibrators, finally finding a tube of green apple flavored lube and condoms. A small bottle falls into his hands and he smiles faintly, the label reading “Pheromone Spray”. He stretches his neck, applying just a bit of the spray underneath his jaws, behind his ears and on the inside of his wrists, before grabbing the items Cas had asked for and returning to the living room. Cas sits there with legs casually spread and Dean has to stop for a moment, holding himself up inside the doorframe, just looking.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous”, he says and sounds as breathless and admiring as he feels.  
*  
Castiel flushes, licks his lips, then nods his head to the side, beckoning Dean back over. He comes willingly, to Castiel’s immediate relief, and Cas pulls Dean into his lap quickly. He moves faster now, hard kisses as he opens the lube and slicks his fingers, the smell of the lube in the air sharp and sweet. He inhales against Dean’s neck and shivers, something new in the air that isn’t just the lube or Dean, something else that was musky and strong, that set Cas’ teeth on edge. He wasn’t sure if he hated or loved it, but it got his attention none the less. Making sure that Dean is straddling his legs, leaning over Castiel to brace himself against the back of the couch, Cas sets to work. He slides his clean hand up to grip Dean’s hip, his other brushing between the boy’s cheeks to circle his entrance, only a few times before the first finger slips in, so easily it makes Cas moan.  
“Fuck…”  
He manages to look up into Dean’s eyes and his breath hitches, the green eyes above him staring down at him half open, glazed with lust and want. Cas feels something pick up in his stomach, making his body heat up and his cock throb, an incessant need to be in the boy NOW speaking up from somewhere in the back of his mind. The patience and slow torturous ways Castiel had been able to keep up to this point go out the window when Dean’s lips part in another infamous cocky smile, and Cas adds a second finger, sliding it in deep, twisting and crooking both of them inside of Dean.

*

He’s got him. Dean knows it the moment he feels Cas inhaling against his neck, breath stuttering and body stilling for a moment. He’s a bit disappointed that it took external tools to make Castiel willing to go further but he really could care less, when the first finger presses inside him, almost forgets about it when the second joins in, Castiel bending them and drawing sweet moans out of Dean’s raw throat. He presses back, onto Castiel’s crooked digits, moaning when he changes the angle slightly and Castiel’s fingertips slide over his prostate. A long-stretched moan escapes his lips and he lowers his head, forehead resting against Cas’ shoulder, mouth hanging open with breathy gasps and pants. They don’t talk anymore. It’s not necessary. Dean isn’t able to, knows he’ll get what he needs soon anyway and Cas is too caught up with staring, watching Dean, observing what movement, what angle causes the boy to tense up the most, cock twitching against his belly desperately craving for a touch. Dean grinds his hips forward, searching for friction, backwards again onto Cas fingers.  
*  
Castiel’s head swims, and not in a good way. Something is wrong, every time Dean gets closer, that scent invades his nostrils again, and it’s overpowering and distracting and makes the roots of his teeth numb. He wrinkles his nose and pushes Dean up, staring up into the boy’s eyes with a frown on his face.  
“..wh…what did you do?”  
He touches the boy’s neck with one hand, then wraps his fingers around hair and pulls Dean close again, taking an inhale of his neck, and yanks his head away instantly. Whatever it was, it was overpowering the natural scent that Dean carried, and Castiel found that the more he smelled it the more he hated it. He makes a face and pulls his fingers roughly out of the boy’s entrance, standing up and dumping Dean back onto the couch unceremoniously. Cas walks into the nearby kitchen, and there’s the sound of running water before he walks quickly back in with a wet paper towel.  
“Hold still Dean.”  
He straddles the boy’s waist and scrubs at his neck with the wet paper towel, lean arms holding his down as he does. The frown on Cas’ face was dark, anger boiling under the surface along with confusion. Castiel didn’t know what the smell was, or why it was so wrong, but he didn’t like it, didn’t want it on Dean’s sun kissed skin. He wipes at the boy’s neck again with a dry paper towel, then leans down and takes a deep inhale, his cock pressed to Dean’s stomach as he does. The scent was still there, but much fainter, barely an afternote in Dean’s smell now.  
“Better”, he grunts out, then quickly scoots down the boy’s body and manhandles his legs apart, redoing the slick on his fingers and looking down at the spread before him. Tanned muscled thighs parted to reveal a perfect ass, twitching entrance that just begged to be taken, filled, broken. Cas shivers and has to swallow back the groan that threatens to break out of his throat, before he goes back to what he had been interrupted at by that strange smell. Two fingers slide inside Dean quickly, carefully one after the other, judging the tightness and stretch of the boy with care. Cas speaks quietly while he does this, voice barely above a whisper, almost scolding.  
“Don’t wear anything like that… it masks your scent… want to smell you… just you. Don’t need anything else, Dean…”  
His blue eyes flicker up from where he was watching his fingers disappear into Dean, up to Dean’s green eyes, and lock on. He crooks his fingers, pressing against the boy’s prostate at the same time as he speaks again, voice calm.  
“Understand?”

*

Watching Cas leaving the room and coming back, wiping the smell off Dean’s body, Dean almost feels like an outsider, like this isn’t really happening to him, like he’s standing outside a window, watching himself and Cas in this weird, somehow adorable scene. A slight smile appears on his lips, as Cas breathes in his scent once more, quickly replaced by a look of sheer pleasure, when Cas pushes back in, back home. His words are absolute, like a snarl and Dean doesn’t even think about talking back or pretending to object.

“Y-yes.. ah… okay-“

Cas brushes his fingers against his sweet spot once more and Dean loses the ability to speak for a moment, eyes squeezing shut, his hole clenching around the intruders. He’s on the edge, has been for about an hour now, letting Castiel torture him to no end. He’s tired, exhausted but ecstatic and antsy at the same time. His cock is throbbing with want, need, and he lifts his hips a bit, changing the angle and granting Cas an even better sight.  
*  
Castiel shivers as Dean’s entrance tightens around his finger, sucking them in further. He scissors them a few times, stretches the boy even more, and adds a third quickly, sliding them in and out together while his other hand fumbles for the condom. He rips it open with his teeth, then slides it on while pulling his fingers out of Dean. A quick coating of lube on his cock, and Castiel is shaking but ready. He pulls on Dean’s thighs, sliding him across couch cushions so that Cas can angle his cock down against the puckering entrance. He pushes the head of his cock against Dean, then darts his eyes up just as he’s pushing inside, wanting to watch the expression on Dean’s face when he does. He almost can’t keep his eyes open though, the absolute tightness around his cock sending a shockwave of pleasure over him. Fuck, Dean was tight, and every inch of Castiel’s cock that the boy swallowed down sang with it, with the heat and pressure that wrapped around him.  
“….god….”, he breathes out, not even meaning to speak but it slips from his lips, unbidden, Cas’ mind focusing on not letting go too soon, on holding out until an orgasm takes Dean over the edge.

Cas slides inside of Dean completely, his body fitting snug against Dean’s, shuddering slightly at how intense it was. He moans softly when Dean twitches around him, eyes shutting for a moment before he opens them again to look down into Dean’s own.

Castiel’s face is filled with emotion, awe at how wonderful it feels, fear at not being able to hold out, but overwhelmingly there was a sense of rightness to this, like being inside of Dean was like coming home. Castiel flushes at the thought, banishes it before leaning down, hands on either side of Dean’s head, as he starts to thrust, in and out, long slow strokes to push Dean toward the edge.

*

A few more pushes, the short but overwhelming feeling of emptiness - and then he’s there. Inside of him. Dean’s eyes widen as Cas sinks deeper and deeper, his cock throbbing, pushing further inside and a broken cry falls from his lips. His hands roam over Cas’ body, searching, finally finding Cas face, holding it almost gently and pulling him down into a messy but soft kiss. He feels the back of his throat constrict with a feeling he can’t quite describe, only knows it’s good, better than good and all he wants is to savour this moment, this feeling, as long as possible. He realizes that this was what Cas had in mind when he kept stroking, touching, kissing, biting. Quick release was one thing - endless pleasure the other.

Suddenly he feels naked and vulnerable, Cas on top of him, slowly rocking forth and back, in and out, the slow strokes enough to make Dean’s vision blur, small teardrops forming in the corners. He doesn’t let go of Castiel’s face, keeps him close, even when their lips break apart. Right now he feels like this is what keeps him alive; Cas. Holding him, touching him, kissing him. He would never admit any of this to anyone but he has a feeling that somehow… Cas knows… Spreading his legs further, he feels Cas sliding in even deeper, pulling out almost completely with every thrust, before sliding back inside, the friction oh so perfect.

He manages to keep his eyes open for a while, watching Castiel move, slowly, precisely, his own eyes fixed on the boy beneath him, watching him intently. There’s something in that shared look, something Dean can’t explain out of the simple reason that he’d never felt it before. He brushes it off, closing his eyes again, throwing his head back against the cushions and moaning, as the tip of Cas’ cock slides over his prostate again.  
*  
Castiel moves inside of Dean like the boy is a precious treasure, something to be enjoyed with every part of himself. Everything he’s experienced when it comes to Dean makes him want more, want to explore and taste, touch and smell and just be. Cas thinks as he thrusts inside of Dean, faster now, that he would be happy just watching Dean come, even if it meant not experiencing any pleasure himself, if he got to watch Dean’s face when he climaxed. There was something about those cupid ‘s bow lips, the eyebrows that furrow down and arch as he feels different things. They make Cas crazy, one expression at a time.  
“So beautiful Dean…”, he whispers against the boy’s lips, and kisses him again, arching his hips up to slam into him, harder now, working towards their orgasms with a slow boiling frenzy.

Dean’s cock brushes against his stomach and Cas moves one hand down, between them, to wrap clumsily around the shaft, stroking at odds with his own thrusts, not as coordinated as he could be at this, but strangely skilled at this for someone who was only having gay sex for the second time in his life. He gasps as Dean tightens around him, hips stuttering, a moan escaping his lips with Dean’s name dripping after it, wrecked from being inside of him.

*

Dean doesn’t hear Castiel’s words, his whole world strangely dulled, hid behind a veil of emotions, of pleasure, lust, want. His own lips are moving but Dean has no idea what he’s trying to say, maybe something important, maybe nothing at all. He’s close now, closer than before, even though back then he couldn’t imagine being more on edge, more aroused, more ready. He’s bucking uncontrollably underneath the older man now, clenching around him with every second thrust, coaxing him to go faster, harder. He needs it, needs Cas inside him so desperately and he thinks he’s stuttering something like that, cause seconds later, Cas complies, plunging inside him like his life depended on it. Dean’s digging his nails deep into the skin of Cas’ back, as he clenches around him, bucking up one more time, before pure white explodes in front of his eyes and he’s crying out in something that would be pathetic and embarrassing, if he only cared. His head falls back on the couch hard, as he’s writhing beneath Cas, cock twitching and painting his stomach and Castiel’s chest with sticky white fluid.  
*  
As Dean comes Castiel is frozen for a moment, almost as if locked in some kind of stasis. All he can do is watch and feel as Dean thrashes beneath him, eyes wide as the boy arches and pants and cries out in a voice that makes Castiel’s entire body shake. He swallows hard around the soft sob of pleasure that wants to escape and then grips Dean’s hips with both hands, slamming his cock into the boy only a handful more times before he too comes; Cas grunts and thrusts deep into Dean’s body, grinding his hips against the other’s ass to stay seated all the way inside Dean, as deep as he could. The marks all across his back were red, some of the scratches bleeding and he could feel the sting but it only added to the pleasure that sparked like music in front of his eyes, dancing in multicolored lights like dust motes on the air. He shudders as his cock pulses inside Dean, emptying into the condom, a moan escaping his lips. Cas sinks down onto Dean, resting his forehead against the boy’s chest and panting slowly. This was insane. Everything was better with Dean. Kissing, touching, sex, all of it was more powerful and primitive and intense than with anyone else in his life. Sex with Meg paled in comparison to this, this thing that shimmered and vibrated like a palpable bond between he and Dean.

How is that possible, Castiel thinks in between deep breathes. How is it possible to have a connection with someone like this, one that made their bodies fit so perfectly against one another, that made sex so electric that it felt like Castiel was going to die one second, and then going to live forever in the next.

It shouldn’t be, this kind of thing isn’t normal, not from his experience. Cas pulls back slowly, grimacing as his cock slips out of Dean with a wet sound. He looks up at the boy, at the wrecked expression and still breathless nature, and wonders if Dean is feeling this too. Cas reaches out, hand going to touch Dean’s cheek, caress the pink flush there, but he stops, hesitates, and pulls his hand back quickly into his lap. Castiel stands up and walks to the bathroom to take the condom off and flush it, cleaning himself up in silence.

Now wasn’t the time to sit and bask in Dean’s vibrant glow. Now was the time to get out, to leave before anything else happened, before they talked and Dean decided that he wasn’t done, that he wanted more. Before Castiel could no longer extricate himself from this dangerously volatile situation. He needed to leave, so that he and Dean could stop this, before it got any worse.

*

Dean’s never been a fan of cuddling, basking in the post-sex haze as long as possible. His countless conquests had been shown to the door almost immediately after they were done, cum still wet on their stomachs. And Dean hadn’t felt bad. Not once. But when Castiel pulls back and out, leaving Dean empty and spent, and gets up to disappear in the direction of the bathroom, Dean feels horrible. This was a fuck, nothing more, nothing less. Another affair, a fling, something wonderful but still just temporary. He never placed too much value on conversation and tenderness after sex, so why would he start now. He struggles to sit up and manages to, just as Cas comes staggering back in the living room. Dean picks up his clothes from the ground and throws them in his direction, leaning back on the couch, his still shaking legs slightly, provocatively parted.

“You should leave before Gigantor comes home…” and seeing Cas’ confused expression he quickly adds “My brother, Sam.”

He doesn’t look at Cas, when he reaches for his own pants, pulling out a crushed pack of cigarettes and lights one, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke in the room, watching the convulted lines it draws in the faint afternoon sunlight. He looks back at Cas after a moment of silence and finds he’s almost finished buttoning his shirt. When their eyes meet once more, Dean shoots him a smug smile and winks at him.

“See you tomorrow, teach.”  
*  
Castiel hesitates, something in him twinging as he takes in the boy before him, smoking so confidently, relaxed after having just been fucked like that by his art teacher. Cas flushes, realizing quickly that Dean was kicking him out, and he feels awkward, even though he had already planned on leaving. Castiel brushes a hand through his hair, opens his mouth to speak, and finds that none of the things he wants to say will sound right. ‘Thanks’ ? No, that’s just fucking awful, and was sure to make both of them feel even more awkward about this. ‘It was good’ ? Castiel is sure that Dean would outright laugh at him for that one. ‘You shouldn’t smoke.’? Yeah… what right did Cas have to tell Dean anything, considering he was the one breaking at least one code of conduct, and maybe a few laws by doing this.

He straightens up, eyes locking onto Dean’s, and he feels a strange pull that he can’t stop himself from obeying. Cas walks over to Dean and leans down, one hand beside Dean’s head on the back of the couch. He licks his lips and looks into Dean’s eyes before leaning down for a soft goodbye kiss.

If this was going to be the last time they would see one another like this, then Castiel wanted the end to be a nice memory.  
Cas was sure that tomorrow things would shift from this insane amount of sexual tension into something more normal, now that Dean had gotten what he wanted, because, as he had said, he ‘always got what he wanted’. Now that the curiosity was gone and Cas wasn’t a ‘new toy’ anymore, he just knew that Dean would move on, and leave him to continue his life as he had been.  
But the idea of going back to his life before Dean was strangely distasteful to Cas. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but not being able to see Dean like this again, naked and glowing with sated happiness, thoroughly fucked and beyond pleased about it- it wasn’t something that Cas was exactly looking forward to. But he knew that was the only way things could be, in order for him to get back to the life his parents wanted him to live. The life that he had always thought he wanted. Career, house in the suburbs, wife, kids.  
Somehow looking into grass green eyes, surrounded by the most gorgeous spattering of freckles Cas had ever seen- his previous goals in life seemed to dim, flickering in his mind like he just couldn’t see them in the same way as before.

*

There’s a long-stretched silence, as Dean waits for Cas to say something, move, act… something. He’s taking another inhale of smoke, puffing it out in the air, just as Cas leans down, hand behind his head, face so close that suddenly Dean feels like suffocating. His hand comes up automatically, grabbing Castiel by the collar and stopping him, pushing him away gently but determinedly. He clicks his tongue, taking a last draw of his cigarette and softly shaking his head ‘no’.

“Ah-ah, teach… don’t push your luck.”

He winks at him once more, before getting up, sliding past his teacher and putting the cigarette into the ashtray. He walks over in the hallway, to the door, unlocking it and opening it a chap. Still completely naked, he leans against the backside of the door, waiting for Cas to follow him, the look on his face confused and… Dean doesn’t know… but there’s something else… something that makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment… something like… disappointment… hurt…

He licks his lips, motioning to the door and watches Cas slowly following his silent order.

“See ya”, he then says and closes the door without giving Cas the chance to react.

He turns around, back leaning against the door, as he sinks down against it, head in his hands. What the hell was he doing?


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel frowns, staring at the door with a whirlwind of emotions going through him. What the hell was that? He squints at the door for another second, then turns around and leaves, going to the elevator and riding it down in silent contemplation. So that was it. Dean was done, already. He hadn’t even taken a day or two to let Cas know that he was done with him- it had been that quick. Castiel supposed that he had it coming, considering how he had fled the club like Dean was going to eat him alive.  
He walks out of the apartment complex and down to his car, getting in and sitting quietly for a moment, before being jarred out of his thoughts by his phone beeping to alert him to a new message. Cas unlocks the phone and pulls up the message, realizing he has 7 messages, all from Meg.  
Meg: where r U?  
Meg: Im staying at work late, picked up more hours.  
Meg: Castiel, r u still at work?  
Meg: Castiel, answer me.  
Meg: HEY, Im done at work, where RU ?!  
Meg: Fine, don’t answer me…  
Meg: Im going out with Ruby, don’t wait up.

Castiel sighs, rubs a hand over his face, then starts his car up and drives home to an empty house. He’s grateful for the time to shower and make dinner, knowing that Meg would probably be coming home late from the bar with Ruby, her single bar hopping friend, wanting food.

He sighs, stirring his pasta, and drinks a beer slowly while grading some more papers, stopping when he looks at Dean’s description of his top three favorite artists, and why they were his favorites. His chest tightens and he quickly flips past the paper to the next one.

*

When Sam comes home from soccer practise two hours later, Dean had dressed, cleaned up the mess in the living room and ordered pizza. They eat on the couch, watching some crappy talk show, and Dean takes care that Sam doesn’t come to close to where the man-on-man action had happened earlier that afternoon. Sam knows about Dean’s sexual orientation, probably knew even before Dean himself had realized it and he was okay with it, as long as Dean didn’t fuck anyone in his room. Or in his presence. So of course Sam knows that their apartment was regularly frequented by a couple of nameless, faceless men and that there was practically no room - except his own - Dean hadn’t had sex in. Dean is aware of how fucked up this is, of how inappropriate the circumstances are for a fourteen year old boy. But Sam also knows that Dean’s life had sucked so far. That he had had to take care of his younger brother ever since their parents had died in a car crash, when Dean had been ten and Sam had been six years old. There had been some foster families but after a while they all surrendered to Dean’s stubbornness and reluctance to follow rules, to let anybody near him or, god forbid, into his heart. He hadn’t always been like this… he doesn’t remember much about his parents but he does remember his mother and their love for each other, how Mary had sung for him and let him play with his baby brother. Yes, there had been a time when Dean Winchester had been content, carefree, happy even.

He goes to bed that night, remembering blue eyes and dark hair and plush lips, a rough voice and breathy gasps and he thinks that maybe this feeling that makes his chest constrict could be guilt or regret or something equally girly…

The next day is important. Dean doesn’t even try to pretend it’s not. He chooses his clothes carefully, skin tight black shirt and washed-out jeans and when he locks the door of his car, making his way over to the school entrance, he feels relatively good. He doesn’t see Cas until 3rd period, walking in the classroom as one of the last students, sitting somewhere in the middle, not looking at his teacher. It takes about twenty minutes for Cas to first make his round through the room and when he stops by Dean’s table, looking down on his work, Dean raises his head to look back up at him for the first time. And the plan he had, the plan he always has, suddenly shifts to the background, fades, until Dean can barely remember that he was supposed to ignore him, to make it clear that this was it. He quickly looks back down, feeling his cheeks flush and only dares to breathe out, when Cas walks past him. Staring down at his notes, Dean notices his hands are trembling. Well, fuck…

Dean manages to keep up the facade for almost a week. He even relaxes, leaning back in his chair seemingly at ease and putting his hand up to answer some of “Mr. Novak’s” questions. By Thursday morning though, Dean has to accept the fact that despite having been thoroughly fucked by this man twice, he still wanted him. After basketball practise, he leaves his classmates at the court, slinging his towel around his neck, as he makes his way around the school building towards the art classroom, where Cas had been spending his lunch break since Day 1. He’s there, of course, and Dean smiles to himself as he’s approaching, hands tugging at the hem of his jersey and pulling it up and over his head. Wiping his sweaty face with it, he leans over the windowsill, exhaling audibly to attract Cas’ attention.

“Hey, teach”, he greets him, fully aware of how Castiel’s eyes scoot over his naked torso, lips slightly parted and eyes wide open.  
*  
The past week had been a mixture of heaven and hell for Castiel. Heaven, because Dean seemed to have let go of his need to ‘have’ Castiel, and had started paying attention in his class, answering questions and asking them, showing interest in a wide variety of artists, and quickly becoming one of the top students in the class.  
It was hell though, because that meant that Castiel was alone in feeling so utterly infatuated. He still dreamt of Dean nightly, and daydreams were still frequent enough to make Castiel blush whenever he felt his cock stiffening in his pants. Meg and Castiel had their first big fight in some months in the middle of the week, and Cas had to attribute most of the argument to his feeling strangely rejected by the boy. This was what he wanted, he had no right to feel that way, and he knew it; but still it was there in the back of his mind, the feeling that while Dean leaving him alone and both of them going back to their lives was the right thing to do… it wasn’t what Castiel truly wanted.  
By Thursday Castiel had managed to work through most of his emotions about what had happened, and was able to look at Dean without immediate flushing arousal, and only a slight tightening in his chest. It was still annoying, but he figured with the amount of chemistry between the two, it wasn’t going to vanish overnight. It might take a few more weeks for things to settle down, but they would.  
Cas is sitting at his desk reading through the journals he’d assigned all his classes, looking at the drawings on the blank pages, the scribbles of notes, the poetry. It was a nice way for him to get to know his students more, get to know them as people, rather than just names and faces. They’d only had the notebooks for two weeks now though, so most of his students had barely written more than a page or two. Dean’s notebook was practically blank, which made Castiel a little disappointed. Somewhere inside he was hoping for more than a glimpse into the teenager’s life. A voice distracts his from his thoughts and he looks up, eyes immediately widening and breath catching in his throat. He licks his lips unconsciously and swallows before speaking, making sure to keep his voice steady.  
“…Hello Dean.”  
By now he was on a first name basis with all his students, so calling Dean by his first name no longer had the same meaning as it had before. Still, saying Dean’s name out loud sent a rush of blood straight south, remembering the last time he’d said it out loud when they had been alone together.

*

Dean smiles at how relaxed Castiel seems, how mature. It’s somehow disappointing, though, how easy it seems to be for the other man, talking to him like this.

“You workin’?”, he asks, putting his shirt down on the ledge below, crossing his arms on top of it “You know it’s lunch break - maybe you should, I dunno… take a break and have lunch?”

It takes a moment but then Cas is smiling and Dean lets out a quiet chuckle at the sight. It’s good. It suits him. Dean hops on top of the windowsill, swinging his legs inside, still looking at the other man.

“So.. how’re you, Mr. Novak?”  
*  
Castiel frowns at Dean sitting on the window sill.  
“Careful.”  
He looks down at the journal in his hands and lifts it up, to show Dean what he’s doing, before putting it back down on the desk.  
“Just reading the journals I assigned all my classes…. and I do have lunch.”  
Cas nods to the small plastic container to his left, filled with leftovers from last night, a meal Meg had brought home from the restaurant for him. Their fight had been brutal, but when it was done they made up, she gave him dinner, and then they’d had sex. It wasn’t nearly as passionate as it was with Dean, and Castiel had felt like the worst person in the world for realizing that. He’d worked extra hard to please Meg, and by the end of the night they were both exhausted, and she actually had a smile on her face. Cas had smiled back, of course, pleased to see that he could still make his girlfriend happy. This morning he had kissed her goodbye and she had smiled in her sleep, and Cas had made yet another resolution to not let his infatuation with Dean get in the way of the person that his parents and Meg wanted him to be. That was where happiness was, right? Pleasing those close to you?  
He sets the journal down though, as Dean continues to watch him, and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and offering the teen a slight smile.  
“What brings you here at lunch? Don’t you have friends to go bother?”  
*  
Dean watches as Castiel seems to be lost in thoughts for a few seconds, then shrugs his shoulders at his question.  
“We just finished basketball practice… and… sport makes me horny…”

He’s pleased to see that although Castiel is much better at controlling himself than he had been when they had first met, he still can’t stop a blush creeping on his cheeks at Dean’s words. Dean slides off the windowsill, leaving his shirt there and walking over to the door, turning just for a moment to look back at Cas, before locking it, the sound unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent room.

Walking back slowly, Dean grabs the water bottle standing on top of Castiel’s desk, twisting off the cap and holding it to his lips, taking a few, small gulps before raising the bottle over his head, letting the water run down over his head, dripping down over his naked torso and soaking his shorts. Licking his lips, he blinks through a crystal veil of droplets of water at Cas, who seems just as flustered and shocked over the turn of events, as Dean had expected him to be.  
*  
Castiel feels his heart pounding so loud in his chest, he’s sure that Dean has to hear it. There’s no way he couldn’t with how much racket it’s making, banging against his ribs like a frightened bird in an iron cage. His eyes widen until the blue is completely surrounded by white when Dean pours the water over himself, and for a split second Castiel can’t even breathe. He swallows hard around the lump in his throat and then quietly speaks, his voice even but faint.  
“You’re going to have to mop that up, Dean…”  
Castiel looks from Dean’s eyes to the floor, where there’s a small puddle growing around the teen’s feet. Jesus Christ, even his legs were hot. How was that possible? Strangely enough the teen had bowed legs, like a cowboy almost, and Cas immediately thought of Dean in a Stetson, chaps, and nothing else, and flushed even more, yanking his gaze away from Dean’s legs and back to the journal in front of him. ‘Joanna’s journal’ was written across the top of the page in curling girly writing, flowers sprouting from the top of the letter J. He struggles to read the words on the page and actually absorb them, as Dean was only three feet to his left, and fuck if Cas couldn’t smell the salty sweat in the air, the scent that was Dean drifting to his nose to tease him even more.

*

Dean bites his lip at Cas’ comment, struggling to suppress another chuckle. The teacher tries to concentrate on his work, eyes on a journal but not moving, obviously failing to distract his attention from Dean and the boy smiles to himself, as he moves forward.

He grips the back of Cas’ chair and pushes it back a bit, turning it around far enough so that Cas’ lap isn’t hidden underneath the table anymore. He can see him twitching, nervously, hands scooting down to cover his lap but it’s too late. Dean’s still dripping wet, the water now running over his outstretched arm and down on Cas’ neck, making the other man shiver.

“I’m so wet, Cas”, he says in that fake innocent voice that he knows is working so well on women and men of every age.  
*  
Dean’s voice takes on a teasing, sickly sweet tone, and Castiel’s eyes flash up at him, brow furrowed slightly in confusion. What was Dean playing at? They were done with this, weren’t they? He’d had his fill and had been letting Castiel go, not flirting with him at all in the past few days. Castiel had been able to breathe again, not constantly on the edge like before. Cas grabs Dean’s arm around the wrist and pulls it off the chair, the water droplets shaking off as Castiel stands up, their eyes almost even now that Cas was standing in front of Dean instead of sitting. He grips the boy’s wrist tight in his hand, shaking it slightly as he speaks as if to emphasize his words.  
“What is this Dean?! Why are you doing this?…I thought… aren’t we done?! You had me, wasn’t that what you wanted?”  
He drops Dean’s arm, hand opening to just let it fall from his grip, and steps away, shoulders squaring off and posture straightening as if to appear just a little more authoritative, but he doesn’t look at Dean as he talks, stares at the desk strewn with journals and papers and pencils.  
“You got what you wanted… Now… you need to stop this. It isn’t good for either of us. I have a girlfriend, a job, a life. And you? You have your entire life ahead of you, Dean. You need to focus on your schoolwork and your grades…”  
He takes a deep breath and lets it out, sighing heavily and looking down to rub at his eyes and wince before looking back up and into Dean’s eyes.  
“You have so much potential, and you can’t even see it.”  
And he did. Castiel wasn’t lying about that, Dean had such a sharp mind, curiosity peeking out behind the cocky behavior, the willingness to learn and be taught that came out whenever Dean put away his superior attitude mask and showed his real self. No one else noticed though, when Dean’s eyes lit up in Cas’ classroom as Cas talked. No one saw him scribble his notes quickly so he could get back to paying attention. They were all focused on themselves, and if they noticed Dean writing so rapidly, or doodling in the margin, or staring off into space- they all thought that it was just Dean not caring enough, not putting enough effort out, relying on his good looks and charm to get him where he was going.  
But Castiel was beginning to see through that. The cocky demeanor and rough exterior, bad boy attitude that Dean carried around was like a safety blanket, protecting him from actually feeling and experiencing things. Cas couldn’t help it, but whenever he saw Dean’s smile curl up while he was lecturing about an artist, it made his heart skip a beat. To be able to make Dean want to learn was a rush, and it made Castiel feel incredibly good, inside and out.

*

The touch doesn’t hurt but Dean winces anyway, cupping it with his other hand, once Cas had let go. He’s speechless for a while after Cas stopped talking, looking back at him with disbelief. Potential? Him? If the situation had been different, Dean might’ve considered laughing. Dean possessed many talents, but none of them involved school or anything he could build upon for a future, a life. Fair enough, he’s not as stupid and lazy as he pretends to be but who cares? Paying attention and studying wouldn’t get him anywhere, he was sure of that. His only ‘plan’ - if anyone could even call it that - involved getting through high school somehow and taking a job at a local auto shop, somehow making enough money for him and Sam to live and, when Sam was old enough, for college. Hearing that Castiel of all people thought so highly about him, made Dean flush with embarrassment and something else… he took a step back, wiping his hand over his face, brushing away the now rather annoying waterdrops.

“I’m standing half-naked and dripping wet in front of my teacher - and you seriously expect me to muse about ‘my potential’?!”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head and turning his back on Cas.

“I mean… what do you even know about my potential, huh? That I give excellent blow jobs? Well, whoopty fuckin’ doo, guess the folks at university are panting for me!”  
*  
Castiel flinches at Dean’s harsh words, frowns watching the boy turn his back to him, shoulders stiff and raised in defense. Dean’s shield was back up, and Castiel wasn’t going to get anywhere. It would be like screaming at a brick wall and expecting it to give simply because you asked it to. Cas knew he would scream his voice raw and broken before Dean would change his mind, and that struck him as a rather endearing quality the stubborn headed teen possessed. Sure, it was also going to be annoying as hell, trying to get Dean to see his worth, beyond the things he gave so easily, as if they didn’t mean anything. As if he didn’t possess anything of value more than what he could give to someone with his clothes off. It made Castiel’s chest tighten, and he licks his lips, and reaches into the pile of journals on his desk, pulling out Dean’s and opening it to the third page. He clears his throat and reads in a calm voice.  
“ ‘I don’t know what you want from me, Teach, what this journal is supposed to be about. You told the class we were supposed to just write whatever we wanted, draw or doodle or write poetry. Yay, right drawing, me? Please, don’t make me laugh.’ “  
Castiel leans against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest once again after setting the notebook back down.  
“This might look like you trying to bullshit your way out of writing a real entry to anyone else, Dean… but to me it shows more than you probably wanted to reveal. You focused solely on art, which to me means that you’re interested in it. You asked me what I wanted from you- do you know that no one else in any of my classes did that? That shows that you want to please, that underneath all of this-“  
Cas gestures at Dean’s still stiff attitude, the look of disbelief and shock and slight anger on Dean’s face now that he’s turned back to face Cas.  
“…Underneath this attitude you have going, that you actually want to listen to your teachers, to learn and be taught.”  
Cas stares at Dean for another moment then unfolds his arms and walks over to the boy before grabbing his wrists and pinning Dean to the wall, his body pressed close and lips inches from Dean’s. Cas stares into Dean’s eyes for a moment, then speaks in a low voice.  
“When we fucked in the club, that was drunken passion, need for release…nothing more than you giving and me taking.”  
He leans in even closer, lips next to Dean’s ear, voice like gravel when he speaks again.  
“But the last time, when we had sex in your apartment, on your couch? I was trying to teach you some patience, make you feel every inch of your skin, to enjoy every single second, every touch, and every flick of tongue or nip of teeth…You wanted nothing more than to feel your release, to have me inside you taking you hard- because that’s the only time you can let go of this mask, isn’t it Dean? When someone else forces it from you, rips it away and makes you really feel, inside and out.”  
Cas brushes his thumbs along the thick pads of flesh of Dean’s palms, slow brush of rough skin, and then the scrape of nails, the slight painful pressure of the edge of them digging into his skin for a moment, leaving white crescents behind that fade away as Cas drags his hands up to intertwine his fingers with Dean’s, still breathing against Dean’s ear, making sure there was no eye contact.  
“There’s more to you than being able to spread your legs like a whore Dean. You’re worth more than that, and when you finally realize it you’re going to blind the world with it.”  
Castiel’s lips brush over Dean’s earlobe as he speaks these last words, and then he’s stepping away from Dean, back toward his desk without another word.

*

As Cas keeps talking, laying Dean feelings, his intentions bare as if he’d known him for years, Dean feels anger and embarrassment rising in his chest. How dare he talking about him like he understood him, like he had the right to tell him what to do and what to think? His lips tremble, when Cas pushes him back against the wall, holding him still as his breath ghosts over Dean’s naked skin with every word. When he pulls back, Dean feels empty, exposed and more vulnerable than he’d ever felt before, during or after sex. It’s like his whole being is laid bare beneath Castiel, his mind, his thoughts, his emotions, and Cas is reading them like a book, like Dean had scribbled them down into that ridiculous notebook. Without thinking, Dean takes the few steps towards the desk, hand sweeping the journals and papers and pens off the table, landing in a messy pile of the floor. Not breaking the eye contact with his teacher, he kneels down, searching for his own journal in the chaotic heap and tearing the page Castiel had read aloud out. When the paper falls down to the ground, Dean stares back up into Cas’ eyes, finding nothing but calm, emotionless blue.

“You don’t know me”, he says and his words are quiet, calm, voice rough and dangerously low “My feelings are none of your business.”

They stare at each other for another long moment, before Dean finally manages to break eye contact, rushing over to fetch his jersey and back to the door, unlocking it and slipping out of the room, not without slamming the door shut behind him.  
*  
Castiel takes a deep breath and holds it, then lets it back out slowly. He’d played a dangerous game just then, showing Dean all he knew about him, and even how much he wanted the boy to succeed. He’d shown Dean that he cared, which was probably one of the main reasons why Dean had reacted so violently. It was easier for them both when neither one cared, when it was just sex, just two bodies melding together to seek blissful release, and nothing more.

Cas knelt and started picking up his papers, the journals, the pencils and pens that Dean had swept off and onto the floor. He stacks them neatly on his desk, going over Dean’s words again and again.  
‘You don’t know me’, he’d said.

‘My feelings are none of your business.’  
Dean was right, Castiel decided. Cas had crossed a line, and now he would have to face the consequences, whatever that might be. He sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes again, a headache pounding away behind the blue, tension from holding back when he’d had Dean pressed against the wall just moments ago, and from Dean’s outburst.

There had been such anger, such pain in the teen’s green eyes when he’d glared at Cas, right before he’d swept out of the room.  
‘What the hell are you going to do now Castiel?’, he thinks to himself while sorting the journals back into their respective piles. ‘…Dean probably hates you now.. won’t want to even be in the same room as you.’  
He clutches at his chest as it tightens painfully at the thought of never seeing Dean again, and quickly brushes it away, thinking that this was for the best. Dean wasn’t ready to learn, wasn’t ready to be taught… and Castiel wasn’t the right person to teach him anyway. Castiel had a life, he had a girlfriend and a job and parents whose expectations he had to live up to. It scared him that in that moment when Dean had slipped out of the room, slamming it behind him, Cas had wanted nothing more than to run after the boy and grab him, kiss him hard and not let go until Dean understood; kiss him until he got why Castiel had said those things.

*

Dean doesn’t go to school the next day. It’s not like he plans not to. But when he wakes Friday morning, staring at the ceiling of his small bedroom and the memories of the day before come back to him with such a crushing force, he feels sick. He would never admit it, neither to Castiel nor himself - but the teacher’s words had more effect on him, than anything else they’d done so far. The shadows of his curtains travelled over the walls of his room as the clock ticked by, hour after hour after hour. He doesn’t leave bed all day, apart from going to the bathroom and getting a snack from the fridge and it takes him until 3 pm on Saturday to properly get up. He gets a text from Uriel, one of the guys from the basketball team, asking him to join them and so he spends the rest of the afternoon and night, hanging out in the park, drinking and joking around. It was well-known that Dean was gay and with his charisma it didn’t rarely happen that one of his friends’ friend hit on him. So when Adam, a shy, slender boy sits close to Dean for most of the evening, Dean doesn’t hesitate to take his chance. Before long they’re alone and Dean’s stripping Adam off his pants, pinning him down on a ping-pong table, sucking him off. He feels cheap when he gets home, empty, hollow.

On Sunday he tries helping Sammy with a biology project but even doing his best to try to understand what it’s about, he ends up assisting him, rather than actually giving him a hand. He doesn’t pay attention to his own homework, as usual, and his art assignment had already landed in the trash basket on Thursday afternoon.  
*  
Meg is gone with Ruby the entire weekend, something about a girl’s retreat to Monterey Bay, but Castiel barely pays attention when she says good bye and leaves to pick Ruby up in the car. He spends the weekend painting, writing, grading papers and avoiding the abused notebook and ripped out page that sat on his desk in his work room at home.  
Finally, late Sunday night, after three days of not seeing or hearing from Dean, he opens the book back up and un-wrinkles the torn out page, flattens it against the edge of the desk. Cas tapes it back in, then turns the page and writes in plain black ink, just one sentence.  
‘Dean, meet me in my classroom at lunch I have something to show you. --Castiel’  
Not Mr. Novak, not teacher. Castiel.

Early Monday morning Castiel sits in his chair at his desk, watching as his students file in, one after another, and take their respective seats. The journals were passed out and placed in front of each student’s spot before they even got there, and as each came in they picked up their journal and opened it, knowing the rule of half an hour of quiet contemplation before the class started to write or draw or whatever they wanted in their notebook was in effect.  
The bell rang, and Dean was no where to be seen, and Castiel felt his heart sink just a little bit.

*

Sammy kicks his ass out of bed on Monday morning and Dean reluctantly gets dressed, just taking his wallet and car keys with him, leaving his bag and school supplies on his desk. When the bell rings, he’s standing outside the art room, leaning against a wall, eyes closed, lips pressed together tightly. He tries to shut off the part of his brain, that’s remembering the last time he’s been here, the part that’s telling him to run, to smash the windows of Cas’ car or break somebody’s nose. Five minutes after the bell rang, Dean pushes the door open, storming inside without looking at anyone and hurrying to a seat somewhere in the middle row close to the window. He deliberately doesn’t pick his journal up from the front desk, just sitting down on his chair, staring on his table. It takes a few seconds until he doesn’t feel everyone’s eyes on him anymore and another while to make Castiel come over, placing the small book and a black pen on his table.

The journal looks pathetic, cover buckled, pages crinkled and slightly darker where droplets of water had hit them. He opens the book after another few moments of silence, of stillness, finding the page he had torn out and crumpled-up having been taped back in. For a split-second he contemplates ripping it out again, throwing the book against Castiel’s stupid face and getting himself thrown out of class, hell, maybe even out of school. But something attracts his attention. Shimmering through the thin paper, there’s something other than Dean’s words, written with a coal pencil - he turns the page, looking down at the words for a full twenty seconds, before raising his head, only to find his teacher staring back at him. Dean just glares and lowers his head again, smoothing the page and swallowing heavily, before putting the pen down on the next page, blank and white, ready to be filled with whatever Dean desired. He knows he’s being immature, rude even - but he still just can’t stop drawing. His lining is not particularily skilled but still it’s painfully clear what the sketches show - Castiel’s face, eyes closed, lips parted in ecstasy, his hands, wrapping around his cock, the way his hair fell into his eyes, when he bent Dean over to fuck him. When the bell rings again, Dean shuts the journal, being the first to stand up and handing it to the teacher, before leaving the classroom without another look.

He’s barely paying attention during the next few classes, History, English and Physics, and when all his classmates leave the building for lunch break, Dean heads back to the arts room, knocking once, twice, before entering slowly.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

His voice is cold, bored almost, as he leans against the door frame, looking over to his teacher, who’s sitting on his desk, the reading glasses sliding down his nose making him impossibly irresistible.  
*  
Castiel looks up over the black-rimmed glasses, and slowly takes them off to set them on the table, on the open journal in front of him. It was Dean’s journal, open to the page with his drawing of Castiel. Castiel nods toward a chair in front of the desk, specifically placed there for Dean.

Cas reaches into his bag and pulls out a large sketchpad, hard bound, with a smooth black cover. It was thick, easily several hundred pages, and was bound to make it hard to tear a page out. He puts it on the desk and slides it over to Dean before slowly withdrawing his fingers to clasp them together on the desk directly in front of him. Castiel looked calm, neat, wearing a crisp white shirt and startling blue tie that was loosened around his neck. He wore black slacks today, but they managed to hug his legs and ass just right, and he knew it, as Meg had told him so more than once. Castiel had let Dean get under his skin, the boy’s volatile temper making Cas risk things he wouldn’t have ever dreamed of for any other person.

“This is yours, if-…if you want it. It’s like the journals I gave to everyone else… but this one is for us to share. I want you to take it home tonight, and write or draw down everything that’s going on in your head; all the good, and all the bad. You can scream into these pages, and let out everything that’s too much to carry with you live there instead of up here,” Cas points to his head, “or in here.”

He places a hand over his own heart for a moment, then puts the hand back down on the table. Castiel pushes to stand up and walk around the table, leans against the desk next to Dean, hands clasped loosely in his lap. Cas stares off across the classroom, watching as a breeze from outside sets the paintings hanging on the wall waving in a ripple, one after the other, a shimmering rainbow of shapes and swirls. His voice is still calm when he speaks, but there’s something in his tone, something that sounds like hope.

“…When you’re done, give it to me…and I’ll do the same. I’ve already drawn and written in it, to start with. If, after reading what I’ve written, you don’t want to continue… then you can toss the book, or give it back. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do Dean.”

Castiel looks down at the boy, at the hands clenched in his lap, the trembling that could signal anger or frustration or something more. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out, reaches out and places a warm hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“You can go now.”

Castiel walks around to the other side of the desk before picking up the notebook with the drawing of himself in such a lewd position, holding it up so Dean could see it. There’s a sparkle of mischief, amusement, in Cas’ eyes when he speaks.

“And, by the way… incredible likeness, Dean.”

*

Dean doesn’t move the whole time, as Cas speaks, explains to him the rules of his little game. He wants to laugh, brush this idea off as ridiculous, a waste of time. But Castiel looks so.. there is no other word for it… hopeful. He’s looking down at Dean, not superior, not demanding - just… hoping, awaiting whatever reaction this suggestion would cause. The sketchpad is still lying in front of him, cover thick and dark and Dean can almost hear the pages calling him, which is ridiculous, but true. His fingers twitch in his lap, when Cas closes his hand around Dean’s arm shortly, gently, before withdrawing it again, leaving Dean feeling cold and rejected. He pushes back the chair slowly, getting up without looking at Cas or the sketchpad, eyes fixed on the floor beneath.

Clearing his throat once, he reaches out a hand blindly, grabbing the sketch block by its spine and pulling it off the table. He doesn’t say a word, eyes only flickering shortly to his drawing of Cas, before dropping to the ground again quickly. He leaves the classroom without a word, his mind blank, his fingers still trembling only god knows why…

When he comes home that night, he throws the sketchpad on the floor, slumping down on his bed and leaning back, eyes closed, quiet breath escaping his slightly parted lips. He tries to ignore it as long as he can, tries to shut out the familiar rough voice in his head, the constant echo of Castiel’s words…

‘…but this one is for us to share.’

‘…write or draw down everything that’s going on in your head; all the good, and all the bad.’

He takes another deep, shaky breath, eyes opening and searching for the pad, lying on the ground not far away. He shifts on his bed, kneeling on the foot of it, reaching out to pull the sketchbook over. He’s staring at the binding for a full sixty seconds, hands itching to touch it, feel the leather underneath his fingers. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, as he takes a hold of the cover and turns it around, revealing the first page of Castiel’s work…  
*  
The pages of the book are a creamy white, not stark white like most sketchbooks. The paper is thick and slightly textured, making it perfect for pencils, pen and other dry mediums. The very first page simply has the word “Creâre” in bold script, hand written in caligraphy. Beneath it in small hand writing is the translation “Create!” A command more than a suggestion, this book was for Dean to create art, poetry, tell stories and just let go of everything and anything within its pages.  
The next page was blank, and Dean frowned, and flipped the page again, eyes widening at what he saw there.

In the center of the page was a drawing of the club, dark surroundings, blurred figures, all shades of gray and blue and black. In the very center of the picture though, was a figure bathed in light, a halo of gold and white around him. It takes a moment for Dean to recognize the figure, but then he swallows hard, realizing that the man in light, with brilliant green eyes and full lips and golden red flecked hair… was him. Cas had drawn him in pastels, smudges of color roughly drawing the shapes of everything around Dean in the drawing, but Dean himself was drawn with a multitude of mediums. There was the faintest underlying drawing in pencil, and then pen over that, tightening up the lines and shadows in quick sharp lines. Over that was layer upon layer of pastels and colored pencil, smooth gradients and textured lines making up Dean’s hair and skin, his eyes glowing with a fierceness that Castiel had seen that night in the club, the tiniest playful smile on his lips.

Beneath the drawing was Castiel’s neat handwriting in black ink, quickly written out as if the words just flowed from him, straight from Cas’ mind to his fingers and the page.

‘Simultaneously the best and worst birthday present I have ever received.’

The next page reveals even more drawings, dozens upon dozens of sketches, quick loose sketches in soft pencil, of Dean. Dean’s eyes, his nose, the quirking smile or the edge of his eyelashes as the light hits them. Most of the sketches were of Dean’s face, expressions portraying lust, happiness, anger and disappointment. Even more revealed how Dean looked when he came, almost a flip book in how each expression led to the next, and you could almost hear the soft cry that came from the drawing’s lips, a cry of ‘Cas!’.

There were even more doodles on the next page, Dean’s stomach, Dean leaning on the palm of his hand bored in class, Dean looking up through his eyelashes at the viewer, a cocky smirk on his face.

 

None of these drawings had labels, left without one on purpose. On the last page next to a quick doodle of Dean biting his lip was a small note written in the small pencil as the drawing were done in.

_‘The very first time I saw you the thought that went through my head was that you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. To my surprise, you became even more beautiful the more I saw you. I can’t decide if you’re more desirable when you’re absolutely bare and lying beneath me, or when you’re focused in class and I can see your eyes light up with curiosity. I don’t know who told you that pretending to be stupid and hiding your cleverness away beneath this mask was a good idea, was the way to get what you want out of life… but they were wrong. You have a fire inside you, Dean. You just need to let it out.’_

*

Dean looks down on the neat letters, the graceful writing that causes a whirlwind of emotions inside of him. His mouth has become dry, parched, while taking in the countless images, rough sketches and skillful drawings of him, of Dean, how his teacher, his lover had seen him, still sees him. He swallows hard, hand holding the book slowly moving to close it. He pushes it away, down to the foot of his bed, unable though to tear his eyes away. His heart is pounding against his chest, trapped in his ribcage like a frightened bird, unable to escape or cry for help. His mind is blank but at the same time it seems like there’s a million of thoughts whirling inside of his head.

What was this about? What did Cas mean, when he asked him to pour out his heart into this book? What was he expecting, what did he want Dean to see, to read out of this?

It scares him. Not knowing where they stand, how Castiel saw him. His words spoke of affection, of wonder and admiration and instead of feeling honored, Dean felt miserable. It was like the emotions Cas was exposing through his words, the brush of his pencil on plain white paper, were crushing him, another weight on his already burdened shoulders.

He pulls the sketchpad back, opening it again and staring down at the drawing of his face, eyes closed, mouth wide open in ecstasy. He blushes at how detailed the drawing was, at the galaxies of freckles that surrounded his nose all seemed to be there, how his lashes brushed against his cheeks, almost making Dean able to actually feel them… His hand reaches for the nightstand, where a simple pencil’s lying next to a notepad he uses for dates and appointments, as well as grocery lists. He doesn’t have a plan, when he starts drawing, doesn’t have an image inside of his head he wants to bring down on paper. His hand moves almost on its own, creating line after line of what’s on his mind…

When he’s done, he’s breathing heavily, his hand hurts and he lets the pencil slide down onto the bed.

Almost the whole page is now dark, covered in thin pencil lines. There’s a person in the middle, barely more than a stick figure, small, curled up in himself and alone. Dean stares at it, at how he sees himself and closes his eyes for a moment, before reaching for the pen again. He presses the tip of it on the page, until it almost breaks, writes in hard, bold capitals underneath the picture:

‘I DON’T SEE WHAT YOU SEE.’

He doesn’t sleep well that night. Nightmares about his parents dying, Sammy crying, himself standing in the middle of all the chaos and pain and being unable to do anything. He goes to school the next day with deep circles underneath his eyes and when he enters the art classroom together with some of the other students, he puts down the sketchpad on Castiel’s desk without looking at him.  
*  
The classroom is quiet for the first half hour as usual, people sketching and writing in their notebooks while Castiel takes role-call and marks down who is absent and who isn’t. Once that’s done he opens the sketchbook Dean had left on his desk and flips to the new page, quiet for at least five minutes, just staring at the drawing. He doesn’t look up at Dean when he picks up a fine tipped eraser, and slowly starts working over the page, erasing lines into the thick black pencil that darkened most of the page. He works quickly and is done just as the half an hour is over. Cas shuts the book and walks over and places it in front of Dean without saying anything, then returns back to the front of the room to announce the next project.

“We’re going to be doing a painting in monochromatic colors of a significant moment in your lives. There are pieces of bristol board over on the rack,” Cas points to the left, “and paints in the cabinet. You guys know where. You have until tomorrow to finish it, and I don’t want anyone to just use all white and call it ‘snow day’ okay? Use your minds, you all possess one!”  
He goes back and sits down at the desk, looking up at Dean to see if the boy had opened the book. When he did, he knew that Dean would find not a new drawing, but an alteration to his own.

Castiel had taken the eraser to the blackness that surrounded Dean and drawn the outline of a hand stretching out to Dean, erased all the color within the hand until the black pencil was a ghost of a memory on the page, faintly tainting the hand that reached out, palm up, inviting the figure in the center to take it.

In the corner right above Dean’s own writing of ‘I don’t see what you see’ was another erased message in the black, simply-

‘You Will’

Dean follows his classmate’s example, getting up and fetching two pieces of paper and then heading over to the paint cupboard. He’s taking his time, contemplating all the available colors. Instinctively he wants to reach out for black, gray, anything dark and sombre. He turns his head, looking back at Cas, who’s leaning against his desk, watching him calmly and turns back to face the cupboard again. He reaches out then, his hand clutching around the case filled with bright, blue paint almost automatically.

Dean walks back to his table, finding the sketchpad had already been returned and after putting down the paint and paper, he lifts the cover, quickly turns the pages Cas had filled with sketches of him and Dean’s own drawing - but it’s empty.

There’s nothing there, nothing new, nothing mindblowing. He shuts the book again, frustration visibly on his face, as he looks down on the blank, beige-y bristol board. Although there is something on his mind, something significant, he hesitates to start working, doesn’t bring it over himself to move his hands. It feels private, intimate and he doesn’t want anyone else to see it, doesn’t want this as something a teacher would look at and grade after his liking.

So when the bell rings and students around him pack up their materials and leave, Dean doesn’t move, paper and paint still lying on the table untouched. When the classroom is empty once more, Dean looks up at Castiel, who’s organizing his papers and a few journals by students who hadn’t been present today.

“I thought this was an exchange diary, teach”, he says loudly into the silence, voice not half as calm as he’d intended it to be “Or have you grown tired of drawing me in every position imaginable?”  
*  
Casiel pauses in his work, a slight smirk appearing on his lips as he flicks his eyes up to look over at Dean.

“It is… I figured I would let you keep it until lunch… but I expect it, and you, here then.”

He turns back to his work, sorting through the journals and pulling out his second classes’ journals before walking around the room and setting them down on the tables in front of each student’s spot. He does this calmly, not looking back up at Dean as he walks around the room, his own mind busy with what had happened the night before.

Dean had his night busy with the notebook, drawing or not drawing, and Castiel had his evening busy with trying, once again, to make Meg happy. His job wasn’t pulling in enough money, as he had to spend at least a third of his paycheck every month on art supplies. There was an extreme lack of funding for the arts in the California school system, and because of that any and all supplies for projects came out of Castiel’s pockets. He loved what he did though, and enjoyed every emotion that his work with the students pulled out of them. Cas knew that not every one of his students liked his class, and that was okay with him. Those who did seemed to live for it, fighting for his attention in each class. Even in Dean’s class, there was at least two other students who seemed to have eyes for the teacher, though only one of them truly wanted advice on their art. The other just seemed to want to get into Castiel’s pants.

When Castiel realized it after a blatant invitation in the girl’s notebook, he’d written her a note about it, politely explaining the student/teacher relationship, and that he had a girlfriend. The entire time he’d written it, there was a voice in the back of his head taunting him with ‘HYPOCRITE HYPOCRITE!’ over and over. Castiel knew that since he’d met Dean, everything in his life had changed. It was as if the boy had a sort of power over him, an ability to make Cas change his views on what he wanted in life with a smile, and betray all his morals with another. Dean was dangerous, and Castiel thought absently while he finished putting down the last of the journals down that he wouldn’t last long out in the wild, diving head first into such a volatile affair that could possibly ruin his life as he knew it.

’..though… just knowing Dean has changed my life completely…’, Castiel thinks, and looks over his shoulder at the boy.

*

Dean sits there, unmoving and quiet the entire time Castiel is handing out the journals, watching him returning to his desk eventually. The bell rings, the next class starts and Dean finally manages to get up, grabbing his bag and the sketchpad.

“Later”, he says, as he leaves the room, because as immature and stubborn Dean is, he can’t leave without a word, hating the silence that was now between them more often than before.

It is only in his last class before lunch, that Dean discovers Castiel’s work, the thin lines erased on the bottom of his own drawing the first thing Dean notices. He blinks disbelieving, his own hand softly stroking over the hand on the paper, Castiel’s hand, stretched out to bring some light in the darkness, reaching out to help.

He shuts the sketchbook again, feeling strangely hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden. He can’t concentrate on anything his biology teacher is rambling about, so he grabs a thick sharpie out of his pencil case and turns to another blank page. Leaning low over the sketchpad, Dean starts writing.

‘My parents died when I was 10. I never tell anyone cause I hate how people look at me and Sammy, like we’re about to burst into tears or collapse or something. I’ve been to several foster families but they all hated me. Understandable, right?’

He pauses for a moment, staring down at the thick, black lines, before continuing, a deep frown on his face as he writes the opposite of what he’s feeling.

‘I don’t want your pity, Castiel. I want you to stop acting like my life is any of your business. You wanted to know about my life, about my thoughts. You satisfied now?’

He returns to the art room at lunch break, finding Castiel collecting the work of his previous class. Putting the sketchpad down on his desk, Dean stands there, waiting. He wanted to be there, wanted to see Castiel’s face when he read it, desperate to watch the hope fading away, as he would realize that Dean doesn’t need to be saved.  
*  
Castiel pauses in his work after a moment, shutting the journal and pushing it to the side to bring the large leather notebook over and into his lap as he leans back in the chair. He opens the page and reads, his face shifting slightly, a frown furrowing over his smooth forehead, then going away again as he reaches the end. He reaches out without looking and grabs a red pencil on the desk, brings it back to the notebook and writes in the same calm writing that he had been using all along.

‘No.’

He sets the book back down on the desk and then spins it around and pushes it slowly back toward Dean, his eyes on Dean’s face as he does it. He pulls his hand back, licking his lips, and speaks in a calm voice.

“I once asked you if I took you in this classroom, if you would be satisfied, if it would be enough… and you said no.”

He stands up and walks around to the other side of the desk, standing behind Dean. He hesitates, then slides a hand up the boy’s arm, trailing his fingers up the skin until he reaches Dean’s firm upper arm. Cas grips it as he leans in and speaks against the boy’s ear.

“I’m not satisfied either.”

He slides his other hand around Dean’s waist, down the center of his belly to cup him through his jeans, pushing his hips against Dean’s ass slowly. His lips slowly brush over Dean’s neck, chapped skin against soft.

“….it’s not enough for me…”

His voice is thick with arousal, but there’s something else underneath, hinting at what Castiel has been trying to get Dean to see… that meaningless sex wasn’t enough. That Dean deserved more than that, was worth more than that- and that Castiel was interested in more as well. 

*

Dean shivers, as Cas touches him, for the first time like this since days, weeks… His hand trembles, as it reaches down to cup Castiel’s in his groin, fingers intertwining, as his head falls back against Cas’ shoulder.

“You randy old devil”, he whispers, just before he turns in Castiel’s arms, tilting his head up to lick along his throat, sucking in the skin just beneath his jaw.

Grinding his hips against Castiel’s, he slowly pushes his teacher back, up on the table, hovering above him for a second, their lips only inches apart. His body’s tingling, his whole being longing to reach out and touch his lips, let Cas kiss him until there was nothing else, until everything faded away and it was only them. He pulls back instead, lips finding Cas’ pulse point, his throat, his collarbone, licking and nipping at the warm skin there, feeling strangely happy at the soft noises Castiel makes in response. He stops for a moment, licking his lips and looking back up into the blue, half-lidded eyes before speaking quietly.

“Me neither..”  
*  
“I’m 29…”, Cas gasps as Dean pushes him back onto his own desk, “…you brat…”

Papers shuffle out of the way, but Castiel couldn’t bring himself to care at this point, too far gone on the scent of Dean. He knows somewhere inside that Dean still doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand where Cas was coming from, and still thinks that this thing between them is nothing but sex… but that’s okay. Castiel could take his time, he has patience, and he knows that someday Dean would get it. He would understand what Castiel sees in him, why his heart beats so fast from just a smile from Dean, or why he’s throwing away everything that he had grown up believing to touch the teenager, to make him feel and open up and experience.  
Castiel shivers under Dean’s fingers, then shoves him away and walks to the door, smirking just slightly at the disappointed and angry sound that Dean lets out- until Cas locks the door. He turns back around, his back to the wood door, and stares at Dean with hungry eyes that slowly walk down his body, taking in the tight jeans that slung low on his hips and the shirt that was perfectly fitted to reveal just enough to tease. Cas speaks in a low voice, husky with need.

“We have a half hour.”

*

They savor the time that’s left, Dean spread out on Castiel’s desk, half naked with his pants pulled down and his shirt pushed up as far as possible. Cas’ hands brush over hot skin, curl in short, sweat damp hair and stroke pulsating flesh and when he coats the condom with a thick layer of lotion and slides inside of him, a soft cry breaks from Dean’s lips. His fingers dig into the older man’s shoulders, drawing sharp lines down his back, his hips, cupping his ass and pulling him in, closer, deeper. He tries to muffle the sounds Castiel’s actions are causing, tries to stifle the moans and gasps and when he reaches his climax after twenty minutes of steady, fast and hard thrusts, he raises his hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he comes in Castiel’s hand. Panting and writhing beneath him, he only faintly realizes when Cas follows him over the edge, hips stuttering and cock pushing inside a few times more, before he too collapses on top of his student. They breathe in unison for a few minutes, then Cas pulls back, out of Dean, to reach for a pack of tissues on his desk. He cleans Dean first, wiping come off his stomach, his lower arms and his cock, before cleaning his own hands and stomach. Dean sits up finally, starting to fix his clothes, wiping the sweat off his forehead, before leaning up to lick a long, wet stripe over Castiel’s neck and up to his earlobe.

“You’re surprisingly persistent for an almost-thirty-year-old”, he whispers, grinning when he pulls back, grabbing the sketchpad and his bag and making his way over to the door.

“See you tomorrow, Cas.”

That night, for the first time in weeks, Dean doesn’t have sleeping troubles.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel can’t help but smile to himself as he straightens up his office, still soaring on the high that came from being with Dean. That night instead of going straight home like he had been for months now, besides the one time he slipped away to Dean’s apartment, Cas goes out. He calls Gabriel and the brothers go out for a few beers and to play some pool, and Cas texts Meg that he’s going to be late, and then turns off his phone, not in the mood for arguing with his girlfriend about whether it was okay for him to be out late or not.  
They drink pints of beer and eat nachos and potato sliders, laughing and talking like they hadn’t in quite some time. Gabriel notices, of course, the shift in Castiel’s demeanor.

“So… who is she?”

“What?”

“The new girl… who is she? You finally got rid of that witch Meg, right?”

Castiel blushes and shakes his head, leaning down to take his shot.

“So then you’re just fucking someone behind her back?”

He makes a startled strangled noise and scratches, missing the cue ball by a mile and leaving a long mark on the green felt from the pool stick. Castiel’s blue eyes are wide as he stares up at Gabriel.

“Seriously, Gabriel?!”

“So I’m wrong? You’re not fucking some chick behind Meg’s back?”

Castiel flushes again and shakes his head, takes his shot and then drinks the rest of his beer in one long drag. It wasn’t technically a lie… Dean wasn’t a chick, after all. Gabriel drops it after that and they finish their round of pool and go outside to sit on the back patio of the bar, watching people hustle by on the street beyond the wrought iron fence and talking about their lives. Gabriel still hadn’t met anyone worth his time, and was starting to get annoyed with it.

“I’m 31…and I just can’t see myself continuing to do this fucking around thing forever. I’d rather be alone for 5 years than continually have to deal with this bullshit drama of fucking one guy only to find out he’s in love with me, or wanting another guy to find out he wants the guy I just dumped. It’s ridiculous.”

Cas smiles and pats Gabriel’s hand, sips his beer.

“You’ll find someone.”

They move on to Castiel’s life, his students and art, as he never wants to talk to Gabriel about Meg. Gabriel has strong opinions about his girlfriend, and none of them are positive. So Castiel just starts talking about his classes, his students, the art work they’ve been doing and the potential some of them show. After about half an hour of listening Gabriel slowly starts grinning. Cas blinks and sits up straight.

“What?”

“What what?”

“What that!, you’re grinning at me like the Cheshire cat, what is that about?”

Gabriel grins even wider and raises his eyebrows at Cas, takes a drink of his beer, sets the glass down and then smirks.

“It’s Dean isn’t it.”

“…What?”

“That’s who you’re fucking behind Meg’s back.”

Castiel can feel the blood drain from his face, and Gabriel’s eyes go wide at how pale his brother gets.

“Cas? Cas!… Jesus man, it’s okay. I’m not going to tell anyone, Fuck.”

“….How… how did you?”

Gabriel makes an exasperated noise and rolls his eyes.

“Listening to you talk about your classes? Every third word was ‘Dean this’ or ‘Dean that’. You fucking worship the kid-“

“I do not!”

“Riiiight. Look, just, be careful. Even if he’s 18-“

“He is… at least 18.”

“You don’t even know?”

Castiel flushes again and Gabriel makes another exasperated noise, but shuts up when Cas glares at him.

“Look, Meg is a crap girlfriend, you deserve to have some actual FUN once in a while… just.. be careful.”

“I am…”

“…Okay….so…”

“Hm?”

“What’s it like being gay?”

“Oh SHUT UP Gabriel.”

They both burst out laughing, and that was the end of that. Someone in his life knew about Dean… or at least as much as Castiel was willing to reveal… and just knowing that Gabriel knew, and didn’t care, made the guilt that had been gnawing in his stomach a little less heavy.

*

The first thing Dean does when he’s home is undressing. He takes his time, arms slipping out of his shirt, fingers working the button and zipper of his pants open, before stepping out of them. He throws both on his bed, putting the sketchpad down on top of the small pile and then leaves his bedroom to take a quick shower. He kinda hates washing Cas’ scent, his sweat and taste off his body but when he’s done, he feels refreshed and motivated. He returns to his bedroom in black sleeping shorts, Batman logo on the side, and drops on the bed on his stomach. Reaching for the blue paint he’d taken from the art supplies at school, he opens the sketchpad, his eyes lingering of Cas’ drawings of Dean, his body, his face and blushes again. He quickly turns the pages until he’s got two big, blank squares of paper in front of him. Unfortunately it doesn’t make him feel any better.

A ‘significant moment’ in his life… what does that even mean?

He quickly discards his first idea, deeming it as too intimate, the second and third and fourth ideas sustaining a similarly cruel end.

Sammy comes home at six and they have dinner in the kitchen, Sam talking about his day and how hilarious his one classmate Damon so-and-so was. Dean smiles and keeps quiet, not really sure what he could say without radiating ‘I just had the most amazing, illegal sex with my 11 year older teacher’. Sure, Sammy knew about him and Cas but he was under the impression that it had been a one-time-thing. And Dean doesn’t want to shatter his view of life and his older brother over microwave-maccaroni.

He leaves Sam to do his homework after that, returns to his bedroom and keeps staring at the blank pages beneath him. He lets his gaze wander around the room, over the miniature classic cars he had inherited from his father, a stack of comic books Sam had given him to his 11th birthday and a painting from his mother. She’d been incredibly talented, that at least Dean didn’t forget about her. Back in their house in Lawrence, Kansas, Mary had spent hours and hours painting, sitting in the attic and looking outside through the skylight. The painting is the only decoration on the walls in Dean’s bedroom, showing the tree outside their house in dark brown and moss-green colors. His eyes fall on a couple of photographs, framed on top of the secretary by the window and he stills.

Getting up and walking over, he takes one of them in his hands. It shows him and Sam, probably around 12 and 8 years old, arms wrapped tight around each other, Dean ruffling his hand through his younger brother’s hair. Dean remembers that day. It had been just a few weeks after their third foster family had taken them home and Dean frowns at the memory.

Zac and Lily Anderson had been incredibly nice at first, aking good care of him and Sam - Sam especially - and for a while, Dean had been sure that this foster family thing wasn’t actually all that bad. But then he had screwed it up… of course… he’d always been good at making friends, even when those friends weren’t exactly what others would call suitable acquaintances. So when Dean had taken a few guys back home, wanting to show them the huge swimming pool in the back yard, naturally they had made a huge mess, throwing all kinds of stuff inside the clear water and splashing water at Lily’s prized roses. Zac had been furious and chased the boys off his property. Then he’d hit Dean, called him a disgrace and called the children’s home to take him back. Dean remembers Sam running outside, standing in front of him, arms spread out to protect his big brother, yelling at their foster father. Sam had always liked their new legal guardians but in that moment he had decided to go, leave this place without Dean.

Dean smiles, as he brushes a finger over the frame. The photograph had showed Zac and Lily too, before Sam had cut them off the picture, leaving only the two boys on it. A few feet behind them, well readable, was the house number 66, blue digits on brown background.  
Dean smiles to himself. He’d found his significant moment.  
*  
The next day in class, after journal time, Castiel has everyone go around the room and show their paintings, but only if they want to. Some of the students decline to talk about them, simply shaking their heads or saying ‘Pass’, and then it was on to the next student. Some stood up and proudly showed their work, and the skill ranged from kindergartener level, to artwork that could possibly be in an art show in the near future. There was a wide range of skills in his class, and it made Cas smile. The stories behind the paintings were even better than the paintings themselves though.  
A few people cried, while they talked about pets or family members dying, the birth of a little brother or sister, or receiving word they had won the championship in their sport. Others went on about inheriting a car from an older sibling, moving from one state to another and leaving behind all their friends, or discovering a special talent, though Castiel frowned just slightly at the girl who thought her ‘significant moment’ was discovering she could tie cherry stems into knots with just her tongue. The boys in the classroom seemed impressed though, which made Castiel smirk in amusement.  
Soon they came around to Dean, and Cas leaned back against his desk, hair slightly mussed, wearing brown slacks, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a brown and beige tweed jacket with blue flecks in the weaving of the fabric.  
“Dean? Do you want to share or pass?”  
He looks right into Dean’s eyes, nodding just slightly to let him know it was okay to pass to the next student, if he wanted to.

*

Dean had thought a lot about this question, since he’d finished his work. Ultimately his story isn’t exceptionally tragic or embarrassing, not even that intimate… but still he came to the conclusion, that it’s not the right time, that it’s too soon to share something about his personal life with people who barely know him, only having seen the façade he’s been keeping upright practically all his life. So he shakes his head ‘no’, looking back at his teacher with firm and calm eyes.

“I’d rather not share, Mr. Novak.”

Cas nods and they proceed with the next student, Dean clutching his hands tight above the final product of his work. He has to endure about six more mostly incredibly boring stories, before the bell saves him and students all around him start packing their bags, leaving their drawings on Mr. Novak’s desk, as they exit the room. When the door closes behind the last one, Dean stands up too, heading forward, stopping a few feet from his teacher, paper in hand.

“I’d like to share now, Mr. Novak.”

It doesn’t take him long to tell the story behind his drawing to Cas and when he’s done, he pushes it over for his teacher to have a look at it. Dean had used the beige bristol board as the background, the surface of the number plate, the bright blue color shaping the ornated digits. It’s not particularly skilled or even pretty but Dean is content with his work. Looking at Castiel studying the drawing, Dean feels tense and uncomfortable, realizing that it actually matters to him, what his teacher would think about his work…  
*  
Cas clears his throat while he looks over the painting, using a thumb to brush over the obvious strokes that Dean made, following them around the numbers slowly.  
“You know… in private, you’re welcome to just call me Castiel…,” he looks up at Dean with just his eyes “..or Cas.”  
Cas looks back down at the painting for another moment, then sets it down on the desk beside him, before beckoning Dean over. When Dean obliges Cas reaches out and brushes a hand over Dean’s cheek, looking into his green eyes for a moment. He just stares, and before long Dean fidgets and looks away, and Cas smiles softly to himself.  
“Thank you for sharing that Dean…. Did you have a chance to write anything in the notebook?…if so, I’d like that back…if not, just keep it until lunch.”  
He stands up away from his desk and puts Dean’s painting on top of the stack of other paintings. By itself, no one would know the story behind the painting. It was unique, among all the paintings. Most of the other students had painted the actual scene they had talked about, or abstract gradients and swirls of monochromatic color to signify their emotions. Dean had gone straight to what he remembered the most, the bright blue numbers on the house, which was what stood out whenever he thought back to that house, those people, that time in his life.  
“…Something I want you to think about though, is why you felt this was the one significant moment you wanted to paint. Why does it mean so much to you? Beyond just the fact that your brother chose you…Think deeper than that.”

Cas leans forward to kiss Dean softly, just a brush of lips but Dean tilts his head to the side quickly, so that his mouth presses against his cheek.

*

“I-.. I don’t know what you mean”, Dean says, pulling back just a bit, out of Castiel’s personal space, until he feels it’s easier to breathe again.

“I chose it because of what Sammy did… simple as that. There’s no hidden meaning or something like that…”

He swallows heavily, taking a step back and surrounding the desk, bringing some distance in between the two of them. When he looks back up into Cas’ eyes, he sees confusion and disappointment, so he quickly averts his eyes once more.

“I’ll.. I’ll return that later.”

And with those words, Dean grabs the drawing pad and leaves the room, practically running to his next class. He honestly doesn’t have a clue what Castiel meant or, even worse than that, what to do about his personal assignment. Right now, all he feels is confusion and awkwardness. He doesn’t know how to feel about Castiel, how to interpret the signals he gets from him. There’s this… familiarity between the two of them, this silent agreement of sharing something special, something intimate and Dean doesn’t know when he’d started to actually trust the other man. Lunch time comes and Dean’s still leaning over the sketchpad, staring down at an empty page. And then it’s there, sudden and unexpected and Dean draws. A few minutes later, the whole page is filled with an enormous question mark, its interior filled with different shades of pencil, graceful flourishes and small letters, stating his name, age, zodiac sign, his favourite movies, the name of the diner down the street that made the most awesome burgers and other personal crap. Finally he turns the book on its side, writing another sentence along the edge of the page.

“Now you know everything you need to know. Your turn. I wanna know more about you.”  
*  
Castiel is busy fixing the blinds on the large windows of his classroom that the staff had finally brought in for him, to let him darken the room and show films when he wanted to. They are those annoying vertical plastic blinds that never seem to lay quite right, always twisting one way or another. He’d taken off his vest and rolled his sleeves up past his elbow, shirt open two buttons as he worked, grumbling under his breath about how stupid it is that he couldn’t get an actual curtain in here.  
Cas stops though and looks over his shoulder when Dean walks in. He flashes the boy a smile and beckons him over.  
“Help me with these?”  
They spend ten minutes fixing the blinds, but by the time they’re done the room is almost pitch black, the only light peeking in from the top of the curtains, and underneath the front and back doors, casting a soft white glow over the floor. Cas smiles, and without knowing why, whispers as he speaks.  
“Thank you. This is perfect, I’ll be able to show the film I wanted to tomorrow.”  
He walks back around his desk and shuffles a few papers aside, then takes out his lunch, a sandwich this time, roast beef and cheddar, and offers half of it to Dean.  
“Notebook?”  
*  
Dean sits down opposite of Cas, sweating slightly in his button up shirt and opening the first three buttons, fanning himself with the manual of how to install the blinds. He takes the sandwich, not without cocking an eyebrow at his teacher, and takes a bite. It’s not too bad, although cheddar isn’t really his thing, and returns Cas’ small smile. He pulls out the sketchpad from below his bag on the ground, pushing it over to Cas and watching him, as he turns the pages to reveal Dean’s newest work, looking up at him curiously. Dean nods at him and Cas leans back over the book, putting on his reading glasses to decipher the small writing inside the question mark and finally, tilting his head slightly, the message on the side of the book.  
*  
Cas arches a brow and looks up at Dean, a slightly amused look on his face. He shuts the notebook and stuffs it into his bag, to take home and reply overnight. He doesn’t say anything though, eating in silent contemplation in the dark with Dean. Their eyes had adjusted by this point, so it was much easier to see in the dark classroom. Castiel could make out the outline of Dean’s face, and he couldn’t help but smile slightly, and then started speaking, calmly, but just a stream of words that seemed to never end.  
“Castiel Novak, no middle name, youngest sibling of three. Gabriel is my older brother, I believe you’ve met him. Anna was our sister, but she died when she was young of pneumonia. I barely remember her face. My parents are incredibly religious, and believe being gay is a sin, thus, they constantly try to convert Gabriel back into being straight, which is quite impossible, but they have yet to stop trying every Christmas and Easter, which makes for interesting family dinners. The last time, the cranberry sauce ended up on the ceiling, and I believe my Mother is still finding peas in the dining room carpet.”  
He pauses, takes a drink of his water, and then continues.  
“Favorite color is green, like your eyes, favorite movie is Rocky Horror Picture Show, but if you ask my parents they would say Sound of Music. I prefer classical music and older rock and roll over modern styles of music, but will listen to almost anything as long as the lyrics are well written and the beat is good. I hate tofu, love cheeseburgers and Mexican food, and have an extreme dislike for anything with coconut. My favorite smells are fresh cut grass, pavement after it rains and whatever shampoo you use.”  
Cas pauses again, licks his lips, and then smiles slowly as he keeps talking.  
“I’m 29, but I’ve told you that… and I’ve never slept with a man before you.”  
*  
Dean almost chokes on his last bite, when Cas starts talking, a seemingly endless string of words, illuminating the mystery that Castiel Novak had been to him. He lowers his hands, food slipping out of them and on the table, as his eyes are fixed on the other man’s lips. He doesn’t realize Cas stopped talking, until the other man repeats his name, looking at him out of warm, blue eyes. Dean clears his throat, licks his lips and leans back in his chair.  
“I’m sorry about your sister”, he says, even though a voice in the back of his head is rejoicing, repeating Castiel’s words over and over.  
‘Green, like your eyes…’

‘whatever shampoo you use…’

… ‘I’ve never slept with a man before you.’

He feels his cheeks blushing, grateful for the darkness surrounding them, protecting him. A silence follows Castiel’s revelations and Dean isn’t sure how to break it, how to move past this inexplicable awkwardness.

“Why did you do it?”

He hadn’t planned talking, hadn’t even thought about asking for a split-second.

“Sleep-.. with me, I mean…”  
*

Castiel shrugs gently.

“Like I said… I don’t really remember her. It would have been nice to know her, and I’m sure you feel the same about your parents being around longer than they were… but the past is the past. I can’t dwell there. That’s not where my life belongs.”

He pauses then, thinking about Dean’s next words, his question.

“…I think part of it was the alcohol… it was my birthday, and I lost count of the number of shots Gabriel had bought me by the time you came up to me… but-“

Cas looks up at Dean, fingers fiddling with a pencil, scraping along the graphite to leave flecks of it underneath his nail and on the table.

“….I think it was because you’re the most breath taking person I’ve ever seen… I-…I told myself that I was following you to let you know that I was straight, and taken..,” Castiel’s lip quirks slightly at that, “…and then you were there, talking to me and touching me…”

He takes a deep breath and frowns, looking down at his hands as he speaks, his voice quiet and serious.

“I have never felt the way I feel when you touch me, Dean. Never. The only thing that remotely compares is when I touch you.”

*

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that.

He’s not sure what he’d expected, what he had wanted Cas to answer. The words are like ice, running down his spine, making him shiver with something that was part awe, part fear. He clears his throat, looking at Cas who has his head lowered, staring at the table beneath and a wave of fondness rushes over him. Following his instincts, Dean stretches out a hand, brushing his fingers over Castiel’s face, causing him to look up and at him. For a moment they’re quiet, just looking. Dean feels Cas skin warm and soft beneath his fingertips and gently traces his thumb over the older man’s cheek. A smile curls the teen’s lips, as Cas’ own hand comes up to cup Dean’s, fingers intertwining and pulling them down together, until he can press his slightly chapped lips against Dean’s palm. His eyes fall closed at the sensation, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

“You’re really weird, you know that?”, he says slowly, his voice quiet but playful and when he opens his eyes again, Castiel is smiling back at him and Dean thinks his heart just stopped.

*

Castiel laughs at that, a warm almost tinkling sound, light for someone with such a deep voice.

“Yes, it has been mentioned in the past…”

Castiel stands up, leaning over the desk between them, and presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead.

“You should go, lunch is almost over.”

He steps back then, and around the desk to start organizing and fixing the tables before he can go home for the day. Tomorrow would be a movie day, so there was no need to set up any papers or art supplies. They would take notes on the film he would be showing, a comprehensive history of Da Vinci’s work, and then do something inspired by him, whether it was a painting, drawing, sculpture, poem or schematic of a flying machine like Da Vinci had made so many times over. Cas is looking forward to this assignment, at the last school he’d taught at the students had been enthralled in each other’s work.

*

When Dean leaves, he nicks the last piece of Cas’ sandwich, swallowing it down before the teacher can say something. He spends his afternoon at the basketball court, playing until he can’t feel his legs anymore and then picking up Sammy. They eat dinner at Burger King and afterwards Dean takes his brother to see a movie. When they come back home, Dean takes his time to think about what he could do next. Cas has the sketchpad, so Dean pulls the journal out of his bag. Once more he lets his eyes scoot around the room and when the idea hits him, he jumps up to fetch a small casket from the secretary. He rummages around in it for a few minutes, until he finds what he’s been looking for. Opening the journal, he tapes a photograph of himself on his first day of school, hair in a bowl cut, wearing the most hideous shirt he’s ever seen, in the middle of the next page. Next to it he writes in capital letters:

‘But then again… I’m also pretty weird…’

He smiles to himself, before putting the journal on the ground next to his bed and turning off the lights.

*

Castiel spends the night fighting with Meg and wishing he hadn’t come home at all. This time the fight is about the healing scratches on Castiel’s back, and where he got them. He’d completely forgotten about the marks that Dean had left him, and luckily they were mostly healed by the time Meg saw them, after Cas walked out of the shower.

“So you’re telling me those are from a tree? Because you went out with your idiot brother, and he climbed a tree, and you had to get him, but you fell out, and SOMEHOW in the process of all of that, managed to get those marks on your back?”

Castiel sighed and nodded, refraining from glaring at Meg just barely. The more time he spent around Dean, the less and less guilty he was feeling for what he was doing to Meg… or their failing relationship. They’d been having problems on and on for the whole 7 months they’d been together. The only reason he’d agreed to live with her in the first place was that she had a job, and he couldn’t afford the house on his own. The sex was, well, he thought it had been good, but after Dean he knew it was mediocre at best. And Meg was controlling. Ever aspect of Castiel’s life was planned, from what he could and couldn’t wear to who he could see and when he was allowed to go out. And whenever anything happened Meg didn’t like? There was the verbal abuse.

“What, do you think I’m a fucking idiot? Jesus, Cas, those are obviously nail marks, I’m not stupid! I’ve put enough marks on people to know what those look like! Who the fuck did that to you?! Answer me you fucker, and don’t lie this time!”

Castiel glares at her, then turns around and walks out, grabbing his bag and leaving before she could respond more than yelling at him to come back into the house. He goes to Gabriel’s, and spends the night there, sleeping on his brother’s futon and writing in the notebook by the light of a tiny table lamp beside him.

‘Sometimes I think I chose the wrong path in life. I wonder where I would be if I had made different decisions, done different things with my life, been a better person. What would have happened if I had jumped off that cliff when I was 14, the first time my parents kicked Gabriel out of the house, and I was left alone with them? Would I have died, or simply been shocked back into life, and not spent the next 5 years of my life doing everything I could to please them, so they wouldn’t force me out of their lives too? I wouldn’t have done as well in school, I think… but I might have realized sooner that I wanted to be a teacher, and not wasted so much time trying to understand science like my Father, the Doctor, wanted me to. I might not have wasted years feeling like I was stupid for not getting it. For preferring painting to chemistry and sculpture to physics. I might not have dragged myself around thinking I was worthless for so many years, if I had just lived my life the way I wanted to, for me, instead of for someone else. Though, every path takes us down another, and we’re funneled through life by these chances we take, the decisions we make, until we arrive where we are… Until I met you I thought I was happy. I thought that I could have kids with the woman I’m with, and everything would be cookie cutter and sweet. I don’t think I ever really knew what true passion felt like. I think that it was an alien concept, and I was just going off what I thought was right, from what someone else told me. Meeting you was like stepping out of a darkened room into the sunlight. You’ve left me blinking and I can’t look directly at you because it hurts, because spots dance before my eyes and I get dizzy… but I can’t stop myself either because you’re like the sun, you are warmth and gravity and you pull me in. I just know I’m going to get burned by you Dean, and I can’t bring myself to care.’

The passage was written in scrawling hand writing, unlike Castiel’s earlier works, where it had been near vertical text. This was spattered on the page and smudged, as if he’d written so fast the ink didn’t even have time to dry. This time there’s no drawing, just the text, and it takes up an entire page, top to bottom, left to right, a block of text that burns with feeling.  
Castiel falls asleep that night staring up at the moon and thinking that his world is collapsing in on itself and he can’t breathe for the ache in his chest when he thinks about green eyes and freckles and a cheeky smile. It hurts and yet it feels so good he never wants it to stop.

*

Dean gets to school early the next day, not able to stay in bed any longer after he woke up. He parks the car and hurries inside, down the empty hallways to the art room. Castiel isn’t there and for a moment, Dean feels a wave of disappointment rushing over him. He lets his bag sink to the ground, pulling out the journal and placing it on Castiel’s desk, before sitting down on the teacher’s chair. ‘Of course Cas isn’t here’, he thinks… after all he doesn’t have to prepare as much as usual for today’s lesson. It’s only 6am, at least 1 1/2 more hours until classes would start. So instead of taking out his cell and surfing the web, instead of texting his friends about basketball practice or the guys at The Haight about what’s going on that night at the club, Dean does his homework. For the first time in he-can’t-remember-how-long, Dean reads his notes from biology, physics, maths and by the time the door of the art classroom opens to his left, Dean is so lost in his work, that he doesn’t even notice Castiel slipping inside.  
Castiel pauses when he sees Dean sitting at his desk, and smirks to himself before clearing his throat.

“Breaking and entering, or did you just pick the lock?”

He knew that he locked the room after he left, he always did. There was too great a chance that someone would just walk away with all of the supplies that Castiel himself had purchased, and he didn’t have the money to buy more. What they had was what they had.

Cas walks in and lets the door swing shut behind him. He was wearing Gabriel’s clothes today, so the pants were just a tiny bit too short, and the shirt was a rather bright sky blue. Cas hadn’t had a chance to go home, and wasn’t looking forward to it tonight either. He walks around the desk and sets his bag down on one side, opening it and pulling the notebook out for Dean. He sets it on the desk next to Dean and then walks over to one side of the room to pull down the projector screen, readying the room for the movie that would be shown that day.

*

Dean turns his head to see Castiel entering the room and returns the smile.

“The latter”, he says, shutting his notebook and leaning back in the chair, watching the older man move around, preparing the room.

When Castiel walks back to the front of the room, Dean clears his throat and points on the journal, still lying in a corner on the desk.

“I made something… I don’t really want it to stay in the journal, though, so you can just… I dunno, tear out the page and tape it in the sketchbook or something…”

He averts his eyes, as Cas steps over to take the journal in his hands, turning the pages until he finds Dean’s work from last night.

*

Cas flips the pages with ease, finding the heavier page with the photograph taped to it quickly. He stares for a second, then a slow closed lipped smile comes over his face, accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“…Good point, Dean.”

Castiel puts the journal on the table and then carefully tears the page out, then walks around to the other side of the desk and flips the notebook open to a blank page to tape the smaller journal page in. Once done with that he closes the notebook again and slides it across the desk to Dean.

“There.”

He smiles down at Dean again, a soft smile, before going back to his preparations for class. While he works, setting up the laptop with the projector that would show the movie on the much larger white screen on the wall, he talks to Dean about the movie they’d be watching, and the project that he was going to assign. After a few minutes he realized he was rambling, and stops to look up at Dean, eyes a little wide.

“I was rambling… wasn’t I?”

*

Dean shrugs, smiling cheekily.

“You tend to do that, yeah.”

They spend about twenty more minutes, just talking, and Dean feels strange. He’s not used to this kind of - and there’s no better way to call it - relationship. He’s the type of guy that has drunk, meaningless sex and never calls again, he’s the kind of guy that doesn’t care about other people than his brother, who doesn’t let anyone in, know who he is. And yet here he is, sitting in an empty classroom, talking to his teacher, the man he’d slept with twice and whom he still can’t get ouf of his head…

When the rest of the class starts flocking in, Dean acts busy, putting his journal and the sketchpad back in his bag. He would have a look at whatever Cas created later.

*

The class goes smoothly, the video a hit with the students, so much so that no one notices when Cas walks over and whispers in Dean’s ear that he needs to see him outside for a moment. They walk out the back door quietly, letting it slip shut and before Dean can ask Castiel what’s up, he’s pressed against the wall, Cas’ mouth latched onto his neck, sucking and biting and kissing the skin beneath his ear. Cas’ hips grind against Dean’s, his hand works its way under the boy’s shirt to caress bare skin that burns under his fingers it’s so warm.

No one’s around, and they are secluded by a large hedge that is just outside the classroom, helping to block the large windows that are just to the right. No one could see them here, but in the moment Cas is almost sure he wouldn’t care if the principal herself saw them. He just knew that the longer he sat there, watching the movie’s reflected light flicker over Dean’s features, the more he wanted to kiss him. But Dean had told him no kissing without words, moving his head away twice now when Cas had gone to kiss him, so this was the next best thing; marking Dean’s neck up and claiming him as best he could, making the boy’s head swim as  
Dean always did to Cas without even trying.

*

Dean lets him pass, body loose as Cas pins him against the wall, tongue licking and teeth nipping at the soft skin of his neck, his throat. He tangles his fingers into the thick, ebony hair, quiet gasps escaping his slightly parted lips.

“Jesus, Cas..”

His words are nothing more than a whisper and - thank God - they don’t make Cas stop. He feels a knee pressing in between the V of his legs, rubbing determinedly over the growing bulge in his pants.

“You know..”, he pants, stretching his neck, giving Cas even more space to mark him “I really appreciate the… aah-.. the effort but…..”

He interrupts himself with a low moan, making him forget everything he was about to say, as he feels Cas’ hand sliding over the crack of his ass and down between his legs, fingers rubbing through the fabric of his jeans over his balls, his entrance.  
*  
Castiel shivers at Dean moans, the sound soft, almost a whisper, but enough to set him on fire with need. He swallows thickly and keeps working his mouth over Dean’s neck, sliding the hand that had been in Dean’s pants up over his skin, then further to press two fingers to Dean’s mouth, silently telling him what to do with gentle pressure against his lips.

Cas’ hips rock forward, both of their thighs providing the perfect friction to work against the other’s erection. Castiel had to admit that Gabriel’s silk boxers were rather nice, the fabric smooth against his skin as he rutted against Dean, biting the teen’s neck harder.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore, doesn’t know what the goal is here, just knows that he has to have his hands on Dean, needs to taste and smell him, or he feels he would go nuts. Somewhere in the back of his head a small voice speaks up, taunting him, saying ‘Obsession’ and ‘dangerous’ and ‘guillty’, but Castiel can’t stop himself, not when Dean is this gorgeous, this responsive to his touches.

*

Dean takes the invitation without hesitation, parting his lips to let Cas slide his fingers inside his mouth. He’s lapping his tongue over the digits, closing his mouth to suck at them, wetting them for Cas, smiling around them as he feels Cas’ shivering again. Then he’s rutting his hips forward, moaning around Cas’ fingers, at the sweet sliding motion of their erections against each other, biting down on the warm digits gently. When Cas pulls his fingers back out, Dean almost whines, his tongue trying to catch them once more, the feeling oh-so-good. He slides down the wall a bit, his knees going weak at the feelings pulsing through his body and his hands find purchase on Cas’ strong shoulders. Pulling Cas down a bit, he leans forward to breathe hot and wet against his ear, as he speaks again, voice needy and laced with desire.

“Come on, teach”, he beckons, licking his lips and looking up at Cas out of hooded eyes “Or do you want your students come looking for us? But… maybe you’d like the audience… hm, Cas?”

He’s teasing again and they both know he’s not serious but it doesn’t matter, cause there’s this spark in Cas’ eyes that Dean knows will lead to something good, something wild and he can’t wait to experience it.

*

Cas growls just slightly, and shoves Dean harder against the wall, latching his mouth onto the crook of the boy’s neck after using his dry hand to yank the t-shirt to one side, stretching the neck of it beyond repair. His other hand skates back down, riding the curve and valley of Dean’s lower back, the swell of his ass to dip inside his pants and under his boxers.

His fingers find Dean’s hole again, but this time there’s no fabric separating them, and Cas wastes no time in pressing slow and firm until his middle finger slides right inside Dean, popping past the ring of muscle into tight wet heat. Cas chuckles and whispers against Dean’s ear, his voice gravelly and low.

“I think you’d be the one who’d like the audience, if where I met you is any indication, Dean… probably like to have someone watch while I fucked you, wouldn’t you?”

Castiel slips the finger deeper and then crooks it, twists it just right to hit Dean’s prostate, at the same time as he pushes their hips together again, grinding Dean’s hardon with his hip.

*

There’s really nothing Dean can reply to that, not because he doesn’t want to or know how to, but because the moment Cas bends his finger inside of him, a high pitched moan escapes the teen’s throat and he has to slap a hand over his mouth in order to stifle the following sounds. Just thinking about how risky this is, about how any moment the movie could be over and a student could come looking for their teacher, makes him impossibly hard. He’s torn between pushing back, driving Cas’ finger in deeper, and grinding his hips forward, pressing against the steady, firm line of Castiel’s body, causing more friction on his dick.

“You can.. ah… y-ou can fuck me anywhere you want to…”, he gasps, just before covering his mouth again, as Cas lets a second finger slide inside of him.

This is beyond insane but Dean can’t bring himself to care. All he wants right now is this, having Cas as close as possible, inside of him, all around him, embracing him with all he has.

*

Castiel chuckles in Dean’s ear and swivels his fingers inside the boy.

“Later…”

He scissors his fingers and then crooks them at the same time, biting down on Dean’s neck again to stifle his own soft moan as he shifts his hips against Dean’s. Cas has plans. Right now though, he wants to watch Dean come, see the look of pure bliss on the boy’s face when he reaches climax.

“Want to see you come Dean… watch your face when you go..”, Castiel whispers in his ear, and slides his other hand down between them to rub over the boy’s erection, push against the hard line and then grip it, sliding his hand down to the tip and back up again.

*

Dean is beyond words, when Cas grips him, teeth biting down on his own hand as he tries his best to suppress the loud moans that want to escape so badly. He squeezes his eyes shut, breath coming in heady gasps, as he feels getting closer and closer to bittersweet release.

“You kinky.. bastard….”, is all he manages to say, before his hips buck forward automatically, grinding against Cas’ hand hard and fast.

From then on it’s a chaos of low, stifled groans and frantic movements. When Dean feels his climax washing over him, his knees give out, making him fall forward and against his teacher, arms falling to his side. He takes a minute just to breathe, forehead leaning against Cas’ shoulder, before his slightly shaking hands slide up the older man’s arms, gently pulling him into an embrace.

He doesn’t care how sensitive he is right now, how soft and vulnerable. It feels right, kneeling on the soft grass outside the classroom, calming down slowly in Cas’ arms.

*

Cas smooths a hand over the back of Dean’s neck, planting soft kisses against the boy’s temple as he holds him. Something swells in his chest in that moment, something similar to the pain he’d felt last night, but so much stronger. It physically hurts and he struggles to breathe for a moment, looking down at the dirty blonde head leaning against his shoulder. Cas shuts his blue eyes tight, biting the inside of his lower lip and just praying that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, and these feelings washing over him for the teenager in his arms are real, and wouldn’t fade away in a week.

He slowly lets go of Dean and stands up, offering the boy his hand.  
“Should, um, get back inside… you might want to..heh, wrap your shirt around your waist.”  
Cas cocks an eyebrow at the obvious wetness at the front of Dean’s jeans, smirks just a tiny bit, as he looks into Dean’s eyes, his own dancing with humor and affection.

*

Dean grunts at that comment, taking Cas hand and scrambling on his own feet.

“You know, you could’ve just… fucking pulled my pants down, smartass”, he complains but doesn’t really mean it.

He would just get his change clothes for basketball practice from his locker later at lunch break. He slaps Castiel’s ass, winking at him before the other man slips back inside first. Dean takes a few more seconds to adjust in his pants and wrap his shirt around his waist, like Castiel had suggested, and then follows him. After the movie is finished, Cas lets them know about their new assignment, most of the students leaving the classroom chattering excitedly as the bell rings. When Dean walks past his teacher, he licks his lips seductively, reaching out a hand to just casually brush his fingertips over his groin, before leaving the room.

*

Castiel has a good day, the first truly good day in quite a while. He ignores the texts and calls he gets from Meg, and focuses on his work. He sketches absentmindedly, Dean’s hands, the nape of his neck, the arch of a hipbone, while his students watch the movie. Every student, even those who were trouble makers by reputation, seem enthralled by the movie, and by the assignment to use the movie about Da Vinci’s work and life as inspiration for their own work. They have until the end of the week to finish the work this time, and would have time in class to work on their projects, and space to leave them once they were done for the day. The assignment would start tomorrow, and Cas is confident that it was going to be a good week.

Time passes quickly, and before he knows it, it’s lunch time, a time when he normally ate in his classroom, and waited for Dean. A pack of teachers have another plan though, and whisk him away, ignoring his protests that he had to clean up his room, off to a sushi bar downtown. He grabs his bag, locks his door, and leaves with them, glad he’d taken the BART train into work today, so he doesn’t have his car waiting in the parking lot without him.

*

When Dean comes by the art classroom that afternoon and finds the door locked, he’s more than confused. He knocks, waits a few minutes, knocks again. Finally he exits the building, walking to the back door but it’s locked as well and as he peeks inside, he can see that the room is indeed empty. Dean frowns, shouldering his bag and heading towards the basketball court, where some of his classmates are playing during the break. He’s not… pissed, not really… after all it’s not like they ever made plans or agreed on meeting every day… but still he’s not particularly happy about Cas just.. leaving like that, not even telling him he wouldn’t be there.

By the end of the school day, Dean hasn’t seen Cas again and when he leaves to pick up Sammy at his school, he’s, well, not in a very good mood. Sam notices, of course he does, but being the awesome little brother that he generally is, he leaves Dean alone, cooking dinner and doing the dishes afterwards, when Dean just shuts himself in his bedroom. He knows he’s being ridiculous, over sensitive and just downright stupid. But he can’t help feeling more disappointed over Cas just leaving than feeling good about their make-out session during the lesson. He falls asleep late, after staring at the ceiling of his room and wondering, when he’d turned into such a girl, the journal and sketchpad in his school bag completely forgotten…

*

That night, drunk on sake and his memories of Dean, Castiel goes home and breaks up with Meg. Their fight is so loud that some of the neighbors consider calling the cops, but no one does, and eventually it quiets down. Meg is furious that Cas would leave her, pissed that she saw it coming but couldn’t do anything about it. Cas just wants out, but realizes quite quickly that his idea to break up with her wasn’t well thought out, as Meg points out a fatal flaw.

“Where are we going to live Castiel? Neither of us can afford a place on our own, and I doubt you want to give up living here, and trying to find another place somewhere else. I could find a roommate, but I’d rather not have a stranger living here.”  
Castiel leans against the wall behind him, rubbing his tired eyes, and sighs. He throws his hands up, conceding her point.

“Fine..that’s…fine. I’ll move into the spare room, and we’ll split everything 50/50, okay? We’ll…we’ll just be roommates.”

Meg snorts.

“Like that’s going to work.”

“What other option is there, Megan?!”

Meg stares at Castiel, her eyes wide and her arms frozen, crossed over her chest. Her jaw drops at Cas, who has very rarely raised his voice with her, and never used her full name, because he knows she hates it. Meg narrows her eyes at him.

“Fine,” she hisses, “but don’t expect to come crawling back to me when you get tired of the fucking tramp you’re sleeping with now!”

She storms out of the room and into their bedroom, now hers, and slams the door, locking it before he has a chance to get his things out. ‘Another time’, Cas thinks to himself, and walks into the spare room, shutting the door with a quiet click before lying down on the too small couch. It’s only a loveseat, and his legs hang over the end, but in his drunken state he couldn’t possibly care less. Castiel falls asleep that night after stroking himself to completion, Dean’s name soft on his lips and the boy’s smile firm in his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

There’s no art class on the next day and Dean’s actually kind of glad. He feels hungover from just pondering about the older man and how fucked up their situation is, both of them aware of how wrong this is but neither of them able to actually change things, end it. He sees Cas in the hallway but there are people all around and so they just walk past each other, only exchanging a quick look.  
Dean doesn’t go visit Cas during lunch break today, accompanying some of his ‘friends’ to a Chinese place down the street instead. He feels weird, coming back home that evening without having talked to Castiel all day… Alone in his room, he pulls the sketchbook out of his bag and turns to the page, Castiel had filled with words. His breath catches in his throat as he reads, the words sinking in slowly, resting heavily on his soul. He closes the book after staring at the last words for what seems like hours, moving up the mattress to lean against the bedhead. Cas’ words echo in his head and he’s hiding his face in his hands, as he repeats them over and over, shaking his head at the confusion that’s taking over, making him feel dizzy.  
Later, when the sun had set and darkness throws its coat of silence and anonymity over the city, Dean flips the journal open, staring down on his own sketches of Cas, the nudity, the detailed drawings of his hands, his lips, his eyes. He comes ashamingly quick, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, the thick, white fluid running over his fingers, dripping down on the bedspread. He smiles to himself as coats his finger in come and opens the sketchpad, painting a lazy, sticky circle on the next blank page, surrounded by short lines like rays of light. It doesn’t really matter that Cas probably wouldn’t recognize what it was. Dean knows. And that’s enough.  
*  
Cas feels oddly empty not seeing Dean at all, but his other students occupy his time, and he finds that he’s quickly growing fond of a number of them. There’s Balthazar, the strangely named French kid who is actually quite humorous and intelligent, Ash, the southern boy who got moved her by his family, and was held back a few times by pure lazily, despite his impressive intelligence, and Joanna, a rather sweet blonde girl who is just a bit of a tomboy. They hang around after their class and help Cas put all the supplies away, so Cas only misses Dean a little, instead of enough to make his heart ache.  
By the end of the day though, Castiel is wondering if Dean had read what he wrote in the notebook, and been scared off by it.  
He gnaws his lip raw on the ride home that night, completely missing his stop at Daly City and ending up having to take a train back.  
Meg isn’t home, so he has the house to himself, and spends the night moving everything from their shared bedroom into his new room, arranging things, and setting things up. He realizes as he answers a text from Gabriel that he actually doesn’t even have Dean’s number, and that sets a frown to his forehead. He would have to give Dean his tomorrow…if the boy showed up in class…if Dean wanted to continue this.  
‘Whatever this is’, Cas thinks to himself, as he lays down on the too short couch once again, to sleep.  
The next day dawns earlier, and Cas is restless, so he goes for a run down to the ocean, walks along the beach and watches the sun rise. The air is freezing, but the seagulls greet him, and he can’t help but laugh at how good it feels to not have the weight of his relationship with Meg weighing him down- he hadn’t gone running before dawn since before they got together.  
Cas showers and dresses in jeans that sit low on his hips, a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a navy blue v-neck argyle sweater over that. He gets to school early, opening his classroom around 7:00, and sits down to look through the journals with a cup of coffee.  
*  
Dean is late that day, having overslept and been stuck in traffic, and so the first thing that morning is he gets detention of. His mood sucks for the rest of the morning and when he heads over to the art room at lunch break, he’s still pretty pissed. He walks in in silence, casually dropping the sketchpad on Castiel’s desk, not really caring about squishing Cas’ sandwich in the process. Instead of taking seat on Cas’ desk or the armrest of his chair as usual, Dean walks to a chair in the back of the room, raising his legs on the table in front of him, as his eyes never leave Castiel’s.  
*  
Castiel looks from Dean to his squished sandwich and back, arches a brow and clears his throat before lacing his fingers together and putting them under his chin. He speaks in a calm voice, but there’s a bit of surprise there too, irritation under that.  
“Something you want to say, Dean…?”  
He had been having a good day, his students showing improvements and opening minds in their journals, marveling at what they learned about Da Vinci, and asking Castiel to teach them more about the Italian Masters. And now, he’s pretty sure Dean is mad with him, but he has no idea why. He picks up the notebook and sets it aside, rescuing his ham sandwich with a slight frown.  
*  
Dean just shrugs, averting his eyes to look out of the window. It’s a little chilly today, sun hidden behind clouds and wind rustling through the trees on the school grounds. He stays like this for minutes, until the silence gets unbearable and he looks back at Cas again, who’s still sitting at his desk, staring at him out of his fucking blue eyes like Dean is some kind of riddle he can’t quite figure out.  
“You weren’t here on Tuesday”, he says and it’s not a question, not an accusation, simply a fact.  
But Cas knows… has to know that it’s hurt and disappointment driving Dean to say this, to feel the way he feels more often these days.  
*  
Cas raises both eyebrow just the smallest amount, then his face straightens out and he looks down at his desk, at the journal he was reading.  
“Yes, some of my fellow teachers thought it would be fun to kidnap me and introduce me to a sushi restaurant downtown. I think it was a hazing, as there was enough alcohol involved to poison an entire fraternity… but I can’t be sure.”  
His tone is deadpan, but it’s obviously a joke, trying to make the situation light so that Dean isn’t embarrassed, and so that Cas doesn’t have to reassure him. Cas flips the page on the journal and finds yet another phone number for one of his students, this time a rather sweet forward girl by the name of Pam. He grimaces and shuts the book, not even bothering to put in a ‘thanks but no thanks’ as he had with the last one. Which reminds him.  
“Dean, do you have a cell phone?”  
*  
Dean can’t help but being relieved. It’s not like he has any reason to be… like… jealous of anybody. But knowing Cas had been taken out against his will by his colleagues isn’t as bad of a reason as he had assumed it would be. He gets up from his chair, walking back to the front of the room, sitting down on the edge of the table, looking down at Cas. He reaches out for a pen then, grabbing Castiel’s hand and pulling it in his lap, fingers tracing the lines of his palms gently, before he’s writing down his cell phone number, smiling mischievously.  
He lifts his legs on the table then, the movement so sudden that it surprises himself probably as much as Cas. Several papers slide down the table, as Dean kneels on top of it, crawling forward, towards Cas. When he reaches the edge of the table, he pushes his legs over it, sliding down on Castiel’s lap, their faces only inches apart, their groins pushing against each other.  
“I jerked off yesterday”, Dean says and his words are not more than a hot breath against Castiel’s lips.  
Rubbing his cock against Cas’, he smiles, moving to kiss along the teacher’s jaw, his cheek, his temples.  
“I need you inside me, Cas.”  
*  
Castiel shivers, eyes shutting as Dean’s breath ghosts over his lips, which part automatically for a kiss that his brain knows isn’t coming. He licks his lips when Dean kisses over to his ear and speaks, the words rough with arousal. Cas’ hands grip the teen’s ass for a moment before he speaks in an equally gruff voice, eyes shut tight.  
“Go lock the door, Dean.”  
He pushes Dean up to his feet and then walks with purpose to the back door, shutting and locking it, and then turning the blinds so they too were shut, effectively giving them as much privacy as they would have in a hotel room. Except this wasn’t a hotel room, this was his classroom, and that fact probably should have Castiel rock hard in his pants, thinking about fucking Dean against the blackboard. He swallows hard as he turns around to look back over at Dean, see if he’d done as instructed.  
*  
As soon as Dean has locked the door, he’s back, practically attacking Cas, pushing him back, further, until the teacher’s back hits one of the supply cabinets hard. He knows they have like half an hour left but he’s not in the mood for slow, for gentle. He unbuttons and unzips Cas’ pants before shoving them down unceremoniously and dropping to his knees in front of the wide eyes man. He’s mouthing at the hard line of Castiel’s cock, bulge clearly visible through the thin fabric of his boxers and Dean moans, lips vibrating against the other man’s body and making him shiver.  
“Tell me how you want me, Cas”, he pants out, licking his lips, sucking at his cock through the shorts “Tell me, do you want to fuck my mouth? Come on, what do you need, Cas?”  
*  
“Fuck… fuck, Dean..”  
Castiel has to swallow hard to even be able to talk, his mouth has gone so dry from the rough actions of the teen, his legs shake slightly as Dean pins him against the cabinet, sucking on the head of his cock through the fabric until it’s wet.  
“Jesus Christ….su..suck me Dean…”  
He whimpers slightly as Dean’s rough hands grab the edge of his boxers and rip them down his thighs, instantly attaching his mouth to the end of Cas’ cock, eliciting a long low moan from the teacher. Cas’ hands come up to grip the short strands of Dean’s hair, tangling and fisting around it to pull him in, closer, setting up a slow rhythm where Dean’s mouth slides all the way to the bottom, then back off to the tip of Cas’ cock.  
“…so good…oh, god….,” Cas’ head falls back against the cabinet and his stomach muscles flutter at the feelings racing through him, the sensation of a tongue swirling over the head of his cock. He yanks back though, pulling Dean off of him with a loud pop, and admires the boy’s bruised lips, glassy eyes. Castiel reaches down and brushes a thumb over Dean’s lips, just staring for a moment before he clears his throat and whispers in a hoarse voice, “Take off your pants and get on the table.”  
He points to one of the tables in front of them, slightly higher than belly high, meaning Dean would have to jump slightly to get up on it.  
*  
Dean loves Cas like this. He loves how comanding he can be, how demanding, doing exactly what makes him hard and ready. Dean lets himself sink down on the floor, crawling backwards until he’s lying on his back, hands roaming over his body, only gently grazing over his chest, the tight buds of his nipples, before pushing inside of his pants, stroking himself once, twice. He moans loudly at his own actions, knowing that it arouses Cas just as much as himself. Then he does as Cas told him to, opening his pants and lifting his ass a little to slide them down together with his shorts. He kicks them off then, shoes and socks following, before rolling around on his stomach and getting up slowly, bending so that Cas can see the muscles in his legs, the curve of his ass right in front of his eyes. Pulling himself up on the table, Dean quickly turns around, hands gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, the last piece of clothing soon joining the pile on the floor. He licks his lips, placing one foot on the chair next to the table, the other hanging loosely in the air, legs spread as far as possible.  
“You don’t wanna keep standing there, just looking, do ya?”  
*  
Castiel blushes, the words slipping out before he can stop them.  
“I swear to God I could, for days…”  
He swallows then, eyes darting up to Dean’s and back down, then he kicks off his own pants and walks over, lean body graceful without trying. Castiel leans in and places a biting kiss on Dean’s neck, then moves down, over his nipples, teeth grazing over each one, then moving further to bite and nip at his stomach, suck a mark over a hipbone, then stop, staring, at Dean’s cock for a second. Then Cas takes a breath and leans in, licking over the head of it before looking up through his eyelashes at Dean, taking just the head into his mouth and having to stifle the moan that comes up at the taste. Here the scent of Dean is stronger than anywhere else, warm and musky, perfectly arousing, making Castiel throb with need- but he wants to do this, give this to Dean.  
He slides his mouth down as far as he can, which isn’t much, but he tries. Cas presses his tongue along the bottom, the vein that stands out there, as he slides his mouth back up to the tip, swirls his tongue around once more then stands back up after picking up Dean’s jeans. He smirks when he finds the tiny tube of lube and a condom in the back pocket, arching a brow at the teen.  
*  
That was… unexpected. Dean lets out a strangled moan, as his eyes go incredibly wide, staring down at those perfect lips, wrapped around his cock like they belonged there, the sight almost too much for him to bear.  
“J-Jesus… C-as..”  
His fingers grip the tabletop beneath him tight, nails digging in helplessly, searching for purchase, as Cas’ tongue draws a wet line up his throbbing length. He practically whines at the sudden withdrawal, watching Cas with a frustrated frown on his reddened face, as he collects the condom and lube but Dean reaches out, grabbing Cas’ wrist and shaking his head.  
“No.. no condom… wanna feel you..”  
He looks up into those incredibly blue eyes, licking his lips as he feels Castiel’s hot breath ghosting over them. The urge to kiss him gets stronger again and Dean quickly tilts his head back, letting out a guttural moan and pushing his pelvis forward, lifting his ass up even more, letting Cas see everything.  
*  
Castiel’s breath catches in his throat, the idea of sliding into Dean without anything, feeling skin on skin so utterly delicious he has to grip the base of his cock quickly to stop himself from going over the edge. He shakes his head and licks his lips nervously though, looking Dean in the eyes. Cas’ voice is hoarse when he speaks, like it pains him to say what he says.  
“N-no.., Dean.. I …. I can’t do that…”  
He shudders and reaches out to wrap a hand around the back of the boy’s neck pulling him up until their foreheads are pressed hard against one another.  
“You can’t risk yourself like that…it’s not worth it…”  
He sighs and shuts his eyes then opens them again.  
“I won’t do that to either of us, not until we both have a clean bill of health. Your life is worth more than this.”  
His voice is fierce on the last sentence, grip hard around the back of Dean’s neck, eyes blazing. Castiel believes what he’s saying, and having known one too many of Gabriel’s friends who trusted someone when they said they were clean, only to end up with an incurable disease for a fuck in a bathroom, it wasn’t worth it to Castiel. And it shouldn’t be worth it to Dean either.  
He brushes his hand down the boy’s neck, then back up through his hair, petting him almost in a soothing manner.  
“Promise me… promise me that you won’t do this…,” Cas gestures between them at the condom and the obvious sex they’re about to have, “without protection…”  
*  
Dean groans in frustration at Cas’ words. He knows he’s right, knows that he’s just doing this - or rather not doing it - because in some fucked up way he cares about him, doesn’t want him to get hurt. But Dean wants it, wants him so bad that it almost hurts. He wants to argue, wants to say that he doesn’t care, that he’s done this so many times he lost count with people he didn’t even give a shit about. It’s pretty fucking ironic, that the first person he actually wants like that, completely and raw and skin on skin, refuses for his own sake. Dean huffs out a laugh, tilting his head to the side and exhaling audibly. He feels Cas’ inquiring eyes on him and finally replies, voice rough and serious:  
“Sure, fine - I promise, okay?”  
He looks back up at the man hovering above him, traces his thumb down his cheek and over his lips, slightly parting them and smiling at how wrecked Cas looks like this.  
“Now you should better make it up to me, teach - c’mere..”  
He wraps a hand around the nape of his neck, pulling him in, the corners of their lips only brushing for a split second, before Dean is sucking on Cas’ jaw, licking over his Adam’s apple.  
*  
Cas tries his best to make it up to Dean, moaning audibly when the teen licks and then sucks on his neck. He quickly opens the packet of lube and applies some of it to his fingers, reaching between them to haul Dean closer to the edge of the table, closer to where Cas wants him. He quickly slides one lubed finger inside Dean, hissing at how tight he is, how wet and warm. Cas shuts his eyes, leaning his forehead against Dean’s shoulder as the boy writhes under his hand, pulling him in even further. A second finger quickly follows the first, and Cas is scissoring them in the next minute, twisting them and forcing them apart from one another to stretch Dean.  
He murmurs Dean’s name and peppers kisses over the boy’s neck, licking over a bruise he inflicted earlier.  
Castiel pulls back once he thinks Dean is ready, and watches as Dean smirks at him, rips open the condom, and rolls it down Castiel’s cock himself, the smirk not leaving his lips as he looks up into Cas’ face and mouths ‘happy?’. Cas can’t help but grin and roll his eyes just slightly, before applying the rest of the lube to the condom. He pushes Dean back, holding him down against the table with one hand firmly against his chest, the boy’s legs looped over Cas’ arms, knees hanging over the crook at his elbow.  
Cas positions himself at Dean’s entrance, and like each time before, looks up into the boy’s face as he slowly presses in, passing at the flicker of pain that goes over Dean’s face, then thrusting in the rest of the way when Dean glares at him for stopping. Cas shuts his eyes, swallowing hard and opening his mouth around a gasp as his head falls back. Dean was still so tight, the perfect vice like grip around his cock. Nothing else compared to it, to him. Cas opens his eyes back up and looks down at the boy below him, shuddering just slightly, and whispers, “Gonna move now Dean…”, before pulling his hips back, both hands braced on the table now.  
*  
It’s perfect like this. Dean is already so lost in Cas’ touches, in his caresses, that he barely hears his words. It doesn’t matter though, cause then Cas is inside of him, pressing closer and closer until they’re united, until they’re one and Dean gasps at that thought. He doesn’t know what changed in the last few weeks - but he never had felt like this, never had done anything like this and though feing forbidden and so utterly wrong, Dean can’t help but feeling happy, for the first time in… years.  
”..Cas”, he breathes, bringing his hands up as good as he can, gripping Castiel’s hips, sliding down over his ass and pulling him in “Cas, m-more..”  
They can’t go on like this, Dean needs Cas, he needs to feel him, hard and fast, needs the glorious mixture of pleasure and bittersweet pain, to make him feel alive, to make him feel.. safe.  
*  
Castiel finds his body on fire from Dean’s moaned words, his nick name on the boy’s lips like candy for his ears. He nods quickly, unable to actually speak at this point, and moves faster, hips rolling through his thrusts to bury himself deep inside Dean, over and over. Cas’ blue eyes stare down at Dean, a mixture of awe and pure pleasure flashing through them as they take in the sight of the boy laid out on the table. A month ago Castiel would have never thought this would be him, slamming into a teenager in his locked classroom, gasping for breath and grunting at the effort of making the other feel as good as he could. The fact that before Dean, Cas had never looked twice at another man hadn’t escaped him, and he marvels at the idea that Dean would probably be the only man, no, person… that Cas would ever want again.  
That thought strikes a chord inside of Cas and he lets out a tortured gasp, eyes squeezed shut as he grabs Dean’s hips and rails into him, faster and faster, the loud slap of flesh on flesh echoing in the high ceilinged classroom.  
“Dean…Dean….nghh, fuck-“, Castiel struggles to keep breathing as his hips piston, snapping forward into the boy with brutal force.  
He takes a deep breath and dares to open his eyes again, and feels the rush of his orgasm hit him hard. Castiel makes a strangled cry as he looks into Dean’s eyes, and wraps his hand around Dean’s cock to stroke him quick as he pushes through his orgasm, the rippling of pleasure racing like white hot metal up his spine.  
*  
Cas coming first takes Dean by surprise and his eyes snap open, staring up at him out of lust-glazed eyes. He reaches up to cup his cheek, whispering soothing words at the other man whose body’s trembling, vibrating against Dean’s own. The look of sheer pleasure on his face is the most beautiful thing Dean has ever seen and only when he exhales audibly, he realizes that he had held his breath for a while.  
“You’re so fucking gorgeous”, he breathes, words slipping out before he has time to think about them or hold them back and he bites his lip, as Cas manages to open his eyes, looking down at him with so much affection that it almost scares Dean.  
Cas’ hand wraps around his cock then and Dean throws his head back, slamming against the solid surface of the table. Dean is close but he feels Cas’ dick softening, can feel him pulling back, outside and Dean’s whole body writhes and shakes beneath him with lust and desire and pure and utter need. He feels so empty, feels tears of frustration on his cheeks, even as his hips buck forward, searching for the friction of Cas’ hand, so desperate to come.  
*  
Cas leans heavily against the table, his legs shaking from the power of the orgasm he just left, but he quickly gets ahold of himself, and turns back to Dean. His hand works quickly, and he uses the remaining lube from the small packet to slick the way for his fist around Dean’s cock. His other hand returns to the boy’s entrance, sliding three fingers in quickly, Dean’s body easily taking them in after Cas’ cock stretching him so.  
Cas leans down and licks along the boy’s neck, biting marks in areas where the skin was free from bruises and teeth marks, licking over the skin to salve the marks he was making. All the while he talks in a low voice, his hands working in tandem on Dean.  
“Come for me Dean… want to watch your face when you go, hear you scream my name…”  
*  
Dean’s hands are trembling, as he digs his nails deep into Castiel’s shoulderblades, pulling him impossible closer, his neck stretched, revealing as much skin as possible for the other man to lick and kiss and bite. It takes Cas only a few more coordinated thrusts and pulls on his cock and Dean is coming, mouth wide open in a cry of pleasure, as he feels his orgsam rushing through him. His whole body is shaking, legs hanging loosely over the ledge of the table, feet twitching, as wave after wave of pleasure churns his limp body. When he opens his eyes several minutes later, come is covering Cas’ hand, his stomach and parts of his chest and combined with the look of sheer satisfaction on his face it’s the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. He breathes in deeply, hands reaching out to pull Cas down into a warm embrace, lips kissing over his cheek, his jaw and nuzzling just below his ear. They lie like this for a while and although the position obviously isn’t the most comfortable for Cas, he doesn’t complain nor does he pull back. Dean breathes him in, the sweat and sex and Cas’ very own scent, then chuckles lightly.  
“So… how do I look when I come?”, he asks teasingly and laughs when Cas gently slaps his rear as a reply.  
*  
There’s the strangest mixture of reverence and wonder in Castiel’s voice when he speaks, voice raw with emotion.  
“Beautiful…..you brat”, he whispers, and ducks his head down to kiss Dean’s neck once more, before pulling away. He looks down at his shirt and can’t help the small huff of a laugh that comes out of him; Dean had basically used his chest for canvas of his very own Jackson Pollock painting.  
“Well done Dean, you could be a contemporary artist yet…”  
He arches a brow and smirks over at the boy before walking over to the sink in the back of the room and grabbing each of them a few paper towels to clean up with, handing Dean’s to him with a soft smile.  
Castiel is silent while he cleans himself up, wiping away the traces of lube and come from his body with scrutinizing blue eyes. Once done he tosses the paper towels and then grabs for Dean’s clothes to help him dress, knowing that, while he has the rest of the day off, Dean doesn’t. He would have to go back to class.  
“….Dean?”  
Castiel’s voice is hesitant as he speaks up, handing the boy his clothes but not letting go.  
“…do you…um..”, Castiel freezes, looking into Dean’s green eyes, and then licks his lips, and looks down, letting go of the clothes quickly.  
“…did you finish with the notebook for today?”  
*  
Dean takes his time, cleaning his body from the traces of their intercourse. Deep down he doesn’t want to and that’s what should probably sound alarm bells but miraculously doesn’t. It just feels wrong, cleaning himself off, pretending that nothing happened in this room other than a teacher giving advice to his avid student. He lifts himself up and off the table, pulling up his shorts and jeans and then leaning back, looking at the other man handing him his shirt. He nods a bit reluctantly, suddenly not so sure if his newest work would please the other man as much as making it had pleased Dean himself. He avoids Cas’ eyes and finishes dressing, throwing the paper towels into the bin in the back of the room and fetching another few to wipe the table they fucked on clean. When he turns back around, Cas is watching him and Dean feels his cheeks warming up, as he bites his lip nervously.  
“You know..”, he starts, eyes scooting around the room, looking anywhere but at Cas “not that I’m complaining but…. I don’t really like this… ‘setting’….”  
He stops, taking a deep breath before walking over to Cas’ desk, turning his back on the other man. He’s reluctant to finish his sentence, to let Cas know what’s on his mind but he knows he can’t possibly keep it in any longer.  
“Next time.. and there’s definitely going to be a next time - I wanna do this.. properly…. like.. on a bed….”  
*  
Castiel feels something inside his chest bloom, come to life, when Dean says there would definitely be a next time, and that he wanted to do it ‘properly’. He can’t help but smile to himself, and walks over to stand behind Dean, wrapping his lean arms around the boy’s waist and pressing gentle kisses up Dean’s neck to his ear.  
“…When are you free after school, that your brother won’t be home?”  
There’s no way that Cas would bring Dean back to his house. Not with Meg on a rampage. He’d found every single item of hers labeled in the fridge in bold black letters, MEG. Everything that she deemed unworthy, or that was just for Castiel? She’d labeled ‘MORON’. Yeah, Cas wasn’t really looking to stir the hornet’s nest more than it already had been.  
He hugs Dean back against him, smirking at how he wasn’t any bigger than the boy, not really, but in this position it just seems like it. Seems like he could hold Dean forever like this, bodies curled together; and then he thinks of waking up next to Dean, early morning light filtering in a closed curtain, and flushes bright red, and hides his face against Dean’s shoulder.  
‘…Stoppit Castiel….This isn’t…Dean doesn’t want that. This is sex to him…and you’re his teacher. That’s it. It’s like some kind of fucked up mentorship. Nothing more.’, Cas thinks to himself, and feels his chest tighten painfully.  
*  
He’s more than relieved, when Cas pulls him in, kisses his neck and whispers words of agreement against his warm skin. He closes his eyes for a moment, just savoring the moment, breathing out slowly, as he realizes that this was starting to go in a direction, Dean hadn’t really planned. Jesus, he never plans anything, never gives a crap about what’s going to happen the next day or week or year. He’s been living for the moment practically all his life, learning too soon that you don’t get to have nice things and waiting for them, expecting them to happen makes it so much harder when you get disappointed. He lifts a hand to curl it around Cas’ neck, pulling back just a few inches and looking at him, into the cobalt blue eyes that stare back at him in wonder and it costs Dean all his self-control not to lean in and kiss him.  
They stay like this for a few more seconds, then Dean pulls back and out of his embrace, straightening his clothes and walking over to where he had left his bag. He pulls out the sketchpad, laying it down on the teacher’s desk and looking back at Cas once more.  
“Sammy’s gone for the weekend”, he says and is surprised by how husky, how fucked his voice sounds.  
He doesn’t wait for Cas answer, gives him a small smile and exits the room, just as the bell rings.


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel flushes red, but licks his lips and turns back around, making sure to straighten out his own clothes, and tuck the notebook away in his bag for later reading. Dean’s brother was gone for the weekend. The entire weekend. But, did that mean that Dean wanted Cas to be there the whole weekend? Or was that more a ‘I’m free Friday night because Sammy’s gone for the weekend’ ?  
Cas frowns to himself, then shakes his head. No, there’s no way that isn’t an invitation for more than just a quick fuck Friday night. There’s more there, and Cas isn’t imagining it. His breath catches in his throat as he thinks about Dean’s small smile as he left the room; could Dean actually want more than what they had right now as well?  
The thought carries Castiel through the rest of his day, shopping for a new bed for his new room, grocery shopping and finally home, to try and put things together and set up so that the den was no longer a den, but his room.  
It takes him a few hours, but finally Castiel steps back to survey what he’d done, and grins to himself, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.  
The room looked much more like a bedroom now, with a double bed against the window, the small couch against the far wall in front of the small second hand TV Cas had picked up from a friend. He smiles at the posters on the wall, a variety of different artists. There’s Starry Night by Van Gogh, Dance by Alphonse Maria Mucha, a half dozen anatomical studies by Da Vinci, and Castiel’s personal favorite, the Winged Victory of Samothrace. It’s just a photo, but the lighting was so perfect when it was taken, you could almost feel the muscles in the statute’s wings tense as they worked against the wind.  
He sighs and sits down on his bed, eating something he grabbed from the frozen food aisle while at the store, and opens the notebook to write and sketch in it. He flips to the page that Dean had left him, and blinks, staring at the slightly wrinkled page, the image of a child-like sun drawing standing out in dried paint of some sort? With a start Castiel realizes what it is, and shivers, feeling a jolt of arousal course through him. He shuts his eyes and easily brings himself off the idea that Dean had done just the same thing last night, and then painted in their notebook with his own jizz, knowing that Castiel would find it. He gasps Dean’s name softly when he comes… then adds a winking smiley in the center of the sun in the same manner that Dean did.  
Castiel smirks to himself, then flips open his phone and scrolls through his contacts until he gets to ‘Winchester, Dean’ and sends the boy a text.  
Castiel: lovely sun, through I’m not sure that’s the most sanitary medium I’ve ever seen anyone use.  
He lies back on the bed, notebook beside him, and draws the first thing that comes to mind; he sketches it loose, keeping his pencil flowing over the page, and before long the image of Dean, asleep against Castiel’s pillows, comes to life on the page. Under it Cas writes ‘I want to see what you look like when you wake up’, and then shuts the notebook and puts it back in his bag for tomorrow.  
*

Dean spends the rest of the afternoon doing his homework. Sam actually drops his books, when he walks in the kitchen and finds Dean sitting at the table, lost in his biology book. He grins then, patting Dean’s shoulder and mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like ‘Good for you, Dean’ and leaves Dean alone. After a few hours of studying, Dean gets up to make himself a sandwich, leaning against the kitchen counter and looking outside. The sky is darkening already, the setting sun coloring the horizon in shades of dark purple and magenta. He grabs his books and a soda from the fridge, and returns to his room. His work inspired by Da Vinci is due tomorrow and he frowns, staring at the ceiling of his room and thinking. To be honest, he’s never been the biggest fan of the guy. Sure, he’d been a genius in his field, a visionary, a prodigy. But Dean had always preferred the more abstract artists like Picasso or landscape paintings like the ones from Monet. He scrambles on his feet, walking down the hallways to ask Sammy to burrow his laptop. Back in his room, he opens google, typing in ‘Da Vinci paintings’ into the search engine. He scrolls a bit, seeing the usual stuff like The Last Supper and the Mona Lisa of course, not really finding anything that fits, that seems like the right motive. He shuts the notebook, leaning back against the headboard of his bed and groaning in frustration. Why did he always do that? Procrastinating until the very last moment and then blaming himself for not doing anything about it earlier?

When he grabs a large drawing pad, he just starts sketching, not really thinking about it. He’s drawing a male torso, no head, just parts of the muscular upper arms and his flat stomach. He spends a little too much time on a detailed depiction of his genitals, smiling to himself as he adds dark curls around the half hard cock, before drawing the pencil upwards, sketching the ribcage and heart of the man. He’s not very good at anatomy but when he’s done, he’s pretty satisfied with the end result. The heart is - except his massive reproductive organ - by far the most detailed part of the image, showing veins and arteries and vessels. Most of the page is dark, muscles and shadows and flesh drawn with hard lines. The heart, although detailed, is the brightest part of the image.

Around 11pm Dean is finally done and carefully puts the drawing into his school bag. When he pulls out his cell and notices the small envelope on the screen, he smiles to himself, flipping the phone open and reading the message. His smile widens at Castiel’s words and he’s feeling a weird mixture of pleasure and pride. He types quickly

Dean: you’re such a hypocrite, you had your tongue all over my cock just this morning

hitting ‘send’ before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth and turning off the lights for the night.  
*  
Castiel laughs out loud and blushes when he reads the text, then quiets down when he hears Meg open the front door and walk in. She wanders around the house, stopping in front of Cas’ door several times, as Cas can see her feet under it, standing still, hesitating, before moving on. He frowns softly and rolls on his side, feeling a twinge of guilt and sorrow for the good parts of their relationship that he’d lost by breaking up with her. Meg had always pushed him to be better, and while it was mostly for her own benefit that she did it, she was the reason he’d ended up with the job he had now. Cas wasn’t even going to apply, thinking that his credentials and experience teaching just wasn’t enough for the job, but Meg had pushed him to do it.  
He smiles then, thinking that it was ironic that she had pushed him into the job for the better pay it would give, and that by taking it he had run into Dean again. By Meg forcing him to take the job, she’d insured their break up, in a way.  
Cas falls asleep brushing the empty pillow next to him, then drawing it into his arms when he can’t stand the idea of sleeping alone any more.  
The next morning dawns early again, and Cas can’t sleep anymore, so once again goes for an early morning run. He showers and dresses quickly, moss green sweater over a soft white shirt, jeans and sneakers today. Getting to school earlier than usual, the door is open at 7am, and Cas sits at his desk, feet up, going through each journal one by one.  
*  
Dean takes Sammy out for breakfast that morning, only a bunch of pancakes with maple sirup but as Sam will be fetched up by the parents of one of his friends after school, this is the last time they’ll see each other until Sunday afternoon. He drops him off at his school, waving goodbye, before steering the car back on the road. He’s parking it fifteen minutes later, hurrying over the parking lot and through the empty hallways to the art room. Cas is there this time and Dean shuts the door behind him, as he enters, making his way over to his desk.  
“Morning teach”, he grins and comes to a halt behind the other man, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and leaning down to nibble at his earlobe “Did… you… have… nice… dreams…?”

His words are punctuated by small kisses and dips of his tongue over the dry, warm skin, as he feels Cas shudder beneath his touches.  
*  
Cas shuts his eyes, a low rumble of approval in his throat as he reaches up to wrap a hand around Dean’s forearm.  
“Mm…yes…I have been for a few weeks now.”  
He murmurs, then turns his head to stare into Dean’s eyes.  
“And you? …any dreams you feel like sharing Dean?”  
Cas arches a brow and slowly smiles, then leans over and plants a soft kiss against Dean’s cheek, before turning back to his work, letting his feet plant back on the floor so he can sit up properly in his chair.  
Today’s going to be a big day. It’s the first major project that people would be presenting, and Cas would have to try to keep everyone’s nerves calm, as he knows most of his students would be wired with energy and fear.  
Today is also the day he gets to go home with Dean, at least for a little while. He’d packed a small overnight bag and hidden it in his personal cabinet, along with a jacket, just in case Dean wanted him to stay. He isn’t counting on it… but he sure as hell is hoping for it.  
*  
Dean smiles at Cas counterquestion and backs off, shrugging his shoulders, as he walks over to one of the windows, looking outside.  
“Maybe I’ll tell you later”, he then says, looking back over his shoulder, eyes full of mischief “if we find the time to… you know… talk…”  
He chuckles, turning around and hopping on the windowsill, crossing his legs as he’s watching Cas looking through the journals.  
“Can I get the sketchpad back?”, he asks eventually, sliding off the sill and returning to the desk, waiting for Cas to hand him the book.  
*  
Cas’ nods and points at his bag, where the notebook sticks out just slightly, but doesn’t turn away from the journal he’s reading, where Joanna was currently talking about the boy she had a crush on, and wondering why he never saw her. There was a rather childish sketch of the boy at the bottom, but it was obviously Dean. Cas chokes on a laugh and rubs a hand over his face.  
“…poor girl..”, he mutters, and then writes in his normal neat hand writing besides the drawing,  
‘Joanna, take a closer look at the object of your desires. Watch his movements and who he hangs out with. You may be surprised to see that your crush swings another way.’  
He shuts the journal and moves on to the next, hoping that Joanna would take his words to heart and realize that it’s not that Dean ‘doesn’t find her attractive IN THE SLIGHTEST’, as she’d scrawled out in angry writing, it was that Dean not only didn’t swing her way, but that he was playing in an entirely different forest.  
“…and Dean?”, Castiel looks up over his reading glasses, smirks. “I’m not a hypocrite.”

*

“Yeah right”, Dean retorts, shaking his head, as he grabs the sketchpad to have a look at what Cas had done last night.

He smirks as the makes out the simple smiley, shutting the book again and sliding it into his own bag.

“Yeah. Right.”, he repeats, grinning widely and Cas returns his smile just as cocky.

Dean soon sits down on his usual chair, as his classmates start flocking in and Castiel puts down his glasses and starts the lesson. They’re presenting their work one by one, sculptures, paintings and bricolages, and as they’re going by the list of names, Dean is last. He gets up to the front of the room, his hand slightly brushing Cas’ as he walks past him and pins the drawing of the male torso on the blackboard with a magnet, next to all the other paintings. He looks at Cas before starting to talk about the technique he’d used, about how inspiring Da Vinci’s anatomy studies are and how he’d wanted to point out the heart as the center of the drawing. He walks back to his chair, just a minute before the bell rings and the students leave the room quickly. Dean follows them after packing his stuff, not without stopping in the door frame and looking back at Cas with promising eyes. He doesn’t know whether Cas would have a long day or would be finished earlier than Dean, so he fumbles for his spare apartment key and throws it over to him, chuckling at Cas trying to catch it a little clumsily.

“See you later, teach.”  
*  
Cas blushes as he clutches the apartment key, trying to calm the raging hard on he’d had since Dean pinned the drawing up on the board. No one else would know, but the torso was obviously Castiel’s, down to the little nipple freckle Dean had drawn there. He just nods at Dean and sucks his lower lip into his mouth, eyes skating down the boy’s torso as Dean walks away. Fuck, it’s going to be a long day.  
The day ends up not being as long as he thought it would be, with interesting projects all around. He gets through his four periods with no trouble, and winds up tutoring a few kids on gouache techniques at lunch.  
“It’s like water colors, but you can build layers up, like acrylics. They’re opaque, unlike water colors, so you can layer one over another and hide things if need be. Here… watch.”  
He paints a simple scene, just a tree without foliage, then adds the foliage, and watches the kid’s faces as the watery paint hides parts of the tree where he wants them to.  
“Also, unlike water colors, you don’t have to be careful not to paint on the spots you want white…”  
“So…it’s like, cheating, in a way?”, asks Balthazar, with a grin.  
Cas chuckles and nods.  
“Somewhat… it’s just another medium to use and explore art with.”

*

Dean is pissed, when he finally packs his bags to go home. He completely forgot his detention had been moved to Friday and he didn’t have the chance to let Cas know, so he spent the hour moping over the task his supervising teacher had given him. He leaves the classroom in a hurry, fumbling for his car keys as he’s walking outside and over to the parking lot. He sees a pair of clean, black shoes first, eyes skating up over long, slender legs, a lean upper body and finally resting on a mop of dark hair and a bright, smiling face. He’s seen Cas naked a few times now, beneath him, on top of him, sweaty and wrecked - but seeing him leaning against his baby, clean, black frame gleaming in the afternoon sun, is probably the sexiest sight ever and he has to refrain from jumping him here and there.  
“Sorry to keep you waiting”, he says apologetically, as Cas makes way for him to unlock the car doors “fucking detention…”  
He bites his lip, reaching out a hand to take Castiel’s overnight bag and stuff it in the trunk, before walking to the passenger door and motioning Cas to get in. Sliding behind the steering wheel, he notices his hands shaking and quickly turns on the ignition and the cassette player, AC/DC filling the otherwise silent interior of the car.  
*  
Cas slides into the Impala with ease, taking in the smell of leather and cleaning supplies, fresh air. He smiles to himself, noting that Dean took exquisitely good care of the car, inside and out. He probably even knows things about the engine, things that Castiel would have no clue about. Cas blinks when he sees Dean’s hand shaking and reaches out with steady long fingers to wrap them around Dean’s on the steering wheel. He looks over at Dean out of the corner of his eye and offers him a quirked smile.  
“That’s okay Dean…I had time to finish up the journals for Monday…”  
He licks his lips as he pulls his hand back, settling it on Dean’s thigh to grip slightly as he says his next few words, head tilting up to show off a long neck.  
“Now I have nothing to do… all… weekend.”

*

Dean is quiet for a moment, eyes on the road in front of them, trying his hardest not to concentrate on Cas’ hand on his leg too much. Eventually he turns his head to look at him for just a moment, eyes hooded as he nods once, before looking back on the street.

“My brother will be back Sunday afternoon so… you’re gonna need some serious stamina, teach.”

He licks his lips, knowing damn well that Cas is watching him, as his grip on his thigh gets tighter almost immediately.

“I just.. I have one rule”, he quickly says, as Cas’ hand is slowly sliding upwards, closer to his groing “No sex in the car.”  
*  
Cas’ grip loosens, but he leaves his hand on the boy’s thigh as Dean pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street. They ride in silence, just listening to the classic rock on the radio, Cas eventually humming along as he memorizes the route they’re taking to get to Dean’s apartment.  
He wonders absentmindedly, as the key to Dean’s apartment burns a hole in his jean’s pocket, if after this weekend Dean would let him keep it. He wonders if he’d ever get to meet Sammy, or Sam?, and how Dean’s affording to live on his own with Sam, if he went to school full time. Was there an inheritance somewhere? Cas looks over at Dean as the boy guides the car down the sloping hills of San Francisco, always slowing down at intersections to watch for cars, and make sure the impala’s front and back bumpers didn’t scrape over the asphalt. Cas smiles a closed lipped smile, and speaks up as they near the apartment complex.  
“How was detention?”

*

Dean huffs out a laugh, taking another turn and pulling the car on the side road where he and Sam live.

“What do you think?”, he says and it’s clearly rhetorical, as he continues by himself just seconds later “I had the prospect of getting fucked all weekend and had to waste precious time with doing some shitty test nobody cares about.”

He shoots a grin at Cas, then pulls the car over on the curb and gets out, waiting for Cas to follow him. They get in the elevator and Dean faintly remembers the first time they’d been here together, just a few weeks ago.

“So..”, he says, when he feels Cas’ looks on him, leaning back against the elevator wall, arms crossed over his chest, as the lift takes floor after floor on their way to the top “Is there anything you wanna… get off your chest? Any.. requests? Kinks, fetishes?”

He’s only partly teasing this time, cause honestly - whatever preferences Cas could have, Dean is pretty well equipped on toys and supplies.  
*  
Castiel thinks for a moment, a faint blush coming over his cheeks. He walks over to Dean and pins the boy to the elevator wall, hand on either side of his head against the fake wood paneling, face dangerously close to Dean’s. This close up Cas can see the gold and brown flecks amongst the green of Dean’s eyes, can feel his own eyes dart around Dean’s face to take in the multitudes of freckles.

Cas takes a breath and then breathes out a ‘Yes’, a whisper, before he presses his forehead against Dean’s and looks at the ground.  
“…Just be real with me this weekend…. it’s just us… you don’t have to keep your guard up.”  
He pulls back as the elevator doors ding open and an elderly couple shuffle in. Cas walks out of the elevator, duffel over his shoulder and normal every day bag slung across his body. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Dean was coming, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten with every step. He was actually doing this. He was going to spend the night at a student’s house, most likely spending most of that time having sex with the boy.  
Castiel is seriously screwing himself over with this, and yet, looking back at the bow legged teen, he couldn’t help but think it was worth it, even if he got hurt. Even if he got burned like he expected to. The tightness in his chest whenever he was around Dean is only getting worse the more time they spent together, and Castiel is just starting to put a name to it, but he doesn’t dare even think about it consciously just yet, much less say it out loud.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean clears his throat as he squeezes out of the elevator, past the other tenants of the building, following Cas to his apartment. As he unlocks the door, he feels strange, oddly domestic, with him and Cas walking inside, putting their bags down on the floor and slipping out of their shoes. Dean walks in the kitchen, putting his keys and cellphone on the table, before opening the fridge, looking for something to eat.  
“I’m a horrible cook so either we’re having sandwiches or you order us pizza, your choice”, he says, grinning back over his shoulder at Cas, who’s standing in the doorframe, watching him.  
He’s not quite sure why he’s so excited… it’s no big deal, he tells himself, bringing people back to his place. Sammy’s used to it after the countless times Dean had done it in the past. It is not that commong to have guests staying overnight though, but Dean quickly pushes that to the back of his mind. He can’t go there, not now, not yet…  
*  
Cas laughs and brushes a hand through his hair, which is mussed more than usual after he had stripped off his sweater, leaving him in a plain button down.  
“Well…let me take a look and see what you have…”  
He quickly surveys the kitchen and discovers Dean had the makings for a macaroni casserole, minus a few ingredients.  
“If you want to run down to a supermarket with me, I could make us a macaroni casserole…?”  
Cas looks up from where he was bent over, peering in the fridge, and blushes as he realizes that Dean was staring at his ass. He smirks then, and shuts the fridge door, walking over to push Dean up against the kitchen table, eyes dark.  
“Pizza it is then.”

*

Dean’s mouth literally waters, as Cas bends down to examine the fridge’s contents and when the older man turns around, catches his gaze and strides over to push him against the table, a choked sound escapes the boys throat.  
“Pizza.. sounds awesome”, he says, licking his lips, as one of his hands comes up to tangle in Cas hair, while the other steadies his body against the table top “Just… another rule… no sex on kitchen furniture - we eat here, you know?”  
He grins deviously then, cupping Cas’ obvious bulge through his pants and leaning up to lick over his earlobe.  
“Although I believe I heard that semen contains important nutrients…”  
*  
“Ah-..th…then we better leave the kitchen, before I’m forced to break one of your rules Dean…”  
He tugs away, out of Dean’s grasp, walking backwards toward the hallway, a grin on his face.  
“And I’d hate to break a rule and never be invited back…”  
Cas reaches down and starts unbuttoning his shirt as he walks, stripping it off and leaving it on the floor in the hallway. He pauses then, not knowing where to go from here, and waits until Dean catches up, surprised when Dean pushes him up against the wall of the hallway and practically attaches his lips to Castiel’s neck, biting and sucking on the skin there. Cas moans and arches his head away, giving Dean more room, more skin to mark, his hands sliding down to cup the teen’s ass through his jeans.  
“D…Dean..”

*

Dean smiles against the warm skin of Castiel’s neck, biting down and licking over the marks he makes.

“You’re gonna be a good boy, then?”, he whispers in his ear, hands roaming over Cas’ now naked upper body, his chest, his sides, where he’s ticklish and squirms underneath him “Oh, and if you thought my couch was comfy, you’re gonna lo*ve my bed.”

He leans up to suck at the other man’s jaw, before pulling back with a wet sound and taking Cas’ hand, leading him over to his bedroom, leaving the door open, as they stumble inside, Dean first. He pulls Cas to the bed, sinking down on it and waiting for Cas to follow, until he’s kneeling in front of him. Dean’s hands cup both sides of Cas’ face, as they take a moment to just look at each other, already breathless.

“God, I want you so much”, Dean hears himself say and it’s true, not just some phrase, some pick-up line, but Dean laying his feelings bare as honest as he barely did in the past.  
*  
Castiel has to physically stop himself from kissing Dean, remembering the teen’s strange preference for no kissing, the weird rule he’d laid down after they’d already made out several times. He frowns at the memory, missing the feel of Dean’s lips on his, the taste of the boy. He licks his lips and stares at Dean’s for a moment, considering breaking the rule and just going for it, taking what he wants, but stops himself by yanking his gaze away and up into Dean’s eyes, a soft murmur escaping his lips. He turns his head to press a firm kiss into the palm of Dean’s hand, then reaches over and unbuttons the teen’s jeans, yanking them and his underwear off in one go.

Cas tosses the clothing away into the corner of the room, then grabs Dean’s shirt and strips that off the boy’s tanned body too.  
‘God bless basketball’, Cas thinks, as miles of tanned toned skin is revealed before him. He shivers as his fingers slide up Dean’s body, slower this time, like the last time they were here, in this apartment, and Cas had tried to teach Dean patience. Now they had the time to, now they could take all night and explore, taste, mark each other.  
He pushes Dean back on the bed and leans down, hovering over Dean for a minute, swallowing down the lump in his throat at how breath taking those eyes were and how amazing it felt to be the one here, like this, with Dean.  
“….Trust me, okay?”

*

Dean shivers as he feels Cas’ eyes on his lips, trembling as he’s trying to figure out whether he wants him to breakt he rule or not… his head is swimming with desire and urgency and need and for a moment he’s pretty sure he’s going to kill Cas, if he doesn’t kiss him right now. But then the moment’s over and Cas is undressing him, taking in inch after inch of naked, tanned skin and Dean sighs softly at how hot this makes him, just the look of bright blue eyes on his body. When Cas pushes him back and speaks in a quiet, a soothing voice, Dean doesn’t have any other choice. He nods quickly, licking his lips as he feels the heat rising in his body.

“Y-yes.. I trust you, Cas….”

It surprises him, how easy those words fall off his lips, how they don’t make his stomach twist in indisposition and reluctance.

Somehow… it feels right…  
*  
Cas licks his lips, bringing his lower lip into his mouth as he does it, then gives a soft smile before reaching out and turning the bedside lamp off. The blinds were already drawn, and with the light off the room was cast into darkness. Dean makes a sound of disapproval, but Cas presses to fingers to his lips, voice soft and deep as he murmurs ‘Shhh, Dean…’  
Cas moves down the bed, making sure Dean is in the middle of it, and forces the boy’s legs apart with his hands. A smile ghosts over his face at the harsh intake of breath from Dean in the dark, but he doesn’t stop at that, fingers sliding up Dean’s thighs, gripping the strong muscle gently. Cas leans down and breathes out, hot breath puffing over the delicate skin where leg meets torso, Castiel’s thumbs brushing behind. He moves up, straddling one of Dean’s legs, his rough hands skating over Dean’s torso, catching rough skin on smooth, bumping over muscles and over ribs, to stop again around his waist, grip firm there once more. Cas leans in and kisses, soft, slow presses of his lips to one stop, then barely moving back to trail his lips and the tip of his nose to the next stop. It’s torturous and slow, and then Cas removes all sensation at once, pulling his hands and mouth back to leave Dean blind in the dark, not knowing where he was going to touch next.  
There’s the barest brush of a tongue over one of Dean’s nipples, then a scrape of teeth over the hardening bud, before another touch, nails, scraping lightly down Dean’s side, over each rib, bu-bu-bump, down to his hip, to grip there while Cas’ mouth works over to the other nipple. He’s silent while he moves, wanting to hear everything Dean’s experiencing, listen as the arousal and frustration ratchets up.

*

To be completely honest, Dean hates the idea. He hates not being able to see, to observe, to watch what Cas was doing. He’s never liked sex in the dark. The backrooms of The Haight, sure, as long as the dim lights were on or at least flickering. Complete and utter darkness though is a no-go. Not because he’s scared, Jesus, he’s eighteen! It’s just… he’d had sex with so many people, men and - earlier, when he hadn’t been sure of his sexuality yet - women and somewhere along the way he had lost track.

The thing is - he knows this is Cas. He can hear him breathing against his chest, his stomach, can feel his rough hands, the hands of an artist, sliding over his skin, caressing every inch they can reach. But what he desperately wants- needs, is to see him, drown in those incredibly blue eyes, see the spark in them when he’s found something else to tease Dean with, to delay and extend absolute pleasure. His hands come up, searching for Cas’ face and pulling him down, their noses and foreheads touching, as Dean breathes against his lips, slowly, trying to calm down.

“P-please… talk to me……”  
*  
Castiel can’t help himself from darting his tongue out to brush against the corner of Dean’s mouth once, before he speaks, voice all gravel and rough from the arousal spilling over inside him.  
“What about, Dean?”  
He shifts, the rough sound of the jeans Cas is still wearing rubbing against the bedspread even louder in the dark. Cas lies along Dean’s side, body pressed against the boy’s, one arm slipping under Dean’s head so that Cas can get as close as possible, to whisper in his ear. The other slides down, finger tips trailing over Dean’s stomach under it closes around his erection, stroking slowly, hand loose around the boy’s cock.  
“Do you want to hear how much I love to touch you? …or how much you drive me crazy? …how, that first week in school, when you would touch yourself in my classroom, and stare at me… with those eyes…” Cas flicks his tongue out, nibbles on Dean’s ear while his hand grips harder around Dean’s cock “…How I would lock myself in my classroom during breaks sometimes just so I could touch myself and come, thinking about your lips…?”  
Castiel’s hand works over Dean slowly, hand moving in precise strokes, thumb brushing over the tip to slick the way with the precome that had beaded there, hinting at how gone Dean was getting.

*

Dean shudders at the sudden touch of Cas’ tongue and for a split second his eyes are wide and his heart is pounding against his ribcage, just one word on his mind ‘escape!’… But then Cas is moving them, pushing Dean on his side as, lips on his ear and fingers wrapping around his hard-on. Dean swallows heavily, pressing his lips together tightly, as Cas starts jacking him off slowly, torturing him with languid moves, up and down, twisting, thumb just barely brushing over the tip before joining the rest of his fingers again. His voice does the rest, the rough sound making Dean impossibly hard. His lips part in a heady gasp, as Cas tightens his grip around him, eliciting a low moan from the boy’s throat.

“You have.. you’ve no idea how much you pissed me off”, he says then, voice low as he chuckles at the memory of Cas ignoring his advances for the first few days.

Another moan escapes his lips and he arches his back, legs trembling at the amazing feelings Cas is causing inside of him.

“God, you.. I can only imagine how…. hot you’d look….. touching yourself….”  
*  
Castiel chuckles, nips along Dean’s ear, and speaks again, being honest with both of them in his words, almost a whisper like he can’t say them too loud, for fear of anyone else hearing.  
“I had daydreams about you all that week… was constantly hard… fuck Dean, I could barely be in the same room with you without having to hold myself back from pushing you into a wall and fucking you senseless…”  
He licks down to Dean’s neck, sucking another mark there, before continuing to move until he’s kneeling between the boy’s legs, his mouth so close to Dean’s cock he can feel the warm breath when Cas speaks.  
“You changed… everything…”, he says, and there’s a hitch in his breath that hints at something so much deeper than lust and arousal, but right after Cas murmurs that, he takes Dean’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head and bobbing his head down, desperate to get the hang of this.

*

Dean can’t hold back after that, can’t stifle the honest-to-god cry of pleasure breaking from his lips as he feels his cock surrounded by tight, wet heat, and he can’t bring himself too spare even a thought to the neighbours. Cas doesn’t speak for a while after that but Dean is okay with it, as long as it means that he’s busy sucking him off. His movements are a little sloppy but Jesus H. Christ, it’s Cas. Cas, who had been the awkward heterosexual at first, Cas who had tried his best to ignore the eleven years younger boy, Cas who taught him everything about art, guided him, made him want to be a better person. Dean moans again, this time low and long-stretched, hands searching for Cas’ head and finding it, tangling his fingers into the mop of dark hair, as Cas keeps licking and sucking.

“You… too…..”, Dean whispers, one hand over his mouth, more to himself than to Cas, oblivious of saying it aloud at all.

He’s lost in his feelings, lost in the shivers and moans Cas is drawing out of him with every lazy slide of his tongue over Dean’s cock.  
*  
Cas whimpers around Dean’s cock when the boy speaks, and Castiel can’t help but hear the whispered ‘you too’ and think ‘fuck don’t let this be another daydream’ and ‘I want to live in this moment forever’, as Dean writhes beneath him. He sucks Dean down as well as he can, breathing noisily through his nose as mouth and hand work in tandem on the boy.  
He moves back eventually, long minutes later, and crawls back up to switch on the light. There’s mischief in Cas’ eyes, glittering blue as he smiles shyly at Dean.  
“I figured out what I want….”  
He licks his lips and has to palm his cock through his jeans, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening back up again to stare into Dean’s eyes.  
“…I…uh…wanna watch…. wanna see you open yourself for me…”, Cas whispers, and then bites his lower lip and turns beet red.  
*  
He’s breathing hard, his legs shaking and twitching, as Cas pulls back, leaving his cock wet and throbbing with need. The light, although dim and pleasant, rips a hole in the close to perfect fantasy, causing Dean to blink a few times before his eyes focus on the man above. The words don’t sink in immediately and Dean doesn’t understand why there’s a deep red blush on Castiel’s cheeks and his eyes are impossibly wide. When he does realize the meaning of his words, he can’t stop himself from gasping lightly, slowly pushing himself back and up, legs still weak and shaky.  
“You want me to… touch myself?”, he asks quietly, voice nothing more but a low rumble in the back of his throat, continuing to speak before Cas has the chance to reply “Wanna watch how I do it when you’re not there? How I get myself ready?”  
He smiles weakly, still so very pleasantly exhausted by the prior blowjob, reaching for the bedside table’s drawer and pulling it open. There’s a wide variety of sex equipment in there and Dean, not looking, grabs the first thing he can reach… a string of anal beads, dark blue, like Cas’ eyes right now and Dean chuckles at that thought.

“I… use my fingers first”, he says, reaching back inside the drawer once more and pulling out a bottle of lube, coating the fingers of his right hand with plenty of it “..like this….”

When he pushes the first in, he barely notices. It doesn’t hurt, has stopped hurting long ago so the second finger quickly follows, Dean scissoring them and gasping at the instant pleasure shooting up his spine. He spreads his legs wider, hearing Cas’ breath hitch in his throat at the sight and smiling to himself, as he adds a third finger, pushing them all in a few times before crooking them, the tips sliding over his prostate just perfectly. The moan that escapes his raw throat is guttural and animalistic and it takes him a moment to calm down a little and go on. When he pulls his hand back and out, he sighs in disappointment but just for a second. The look on Cas’ face is priceless. Eyes lidded, directed at him and only him, watching his every movement with fascination and pure and utter lust.

Dean bites his lip, as he’s reaching for the sex toy and lifts it to his lips to coat it in saliva. He pushes in the first, a low moan breaking from his lips at the sensation, so different from his own fingers but not less good. Bead after bead disappears inside his body and finally Dean is writhing on the bed, unable to form a single coherent thought.

“C-as.. pl-ease… need you…..”  
*  
Cas shivers, having stripped out of his jeans while watching Dean do this, touch himself and open himself up for Cas. He swallows hard and nods, his hand stopping from what it had been doing, stroking his cock slowly as he watched the beads slide into Dean, pop in past his entrance. Cas climbs back onto the bed and grabs the ring at the end of the sex toy and gives it a gentle tug, looking up when Dean lets out a soft whine.  
“Get a condom…”, he breathes, and then slowly pulls the strand out, pop-pop-popPOPPOPPOP as he pulls faster toward the end, shuddering with need as Dean all but screams at the sensations. He slides a hand around his cock, fisting it a few more times as Dean gets his wits back and then fumbles in the drawer for the protection Cas asked for. Cas takes it and quickly rips the package open, rolling the condom on in a practiced motion before scooting closer to Dean.  
He frowns slightly, then grabs a pillow and shoves it under Dean’s lower back, angling the boy’s hips up. A quick coat of lube on the condom and Cas leans forward, over Dean, bracing himself with one hand on the headboard, the other angling his cock in just the right way to slide inside Dean. And slide he does, slipping right past Dean’s entrance into him, deep, all the way to the hilt in one smooth motion that pulls a low groan from deep inside of Cas.  
“Fuuuck…..”

*

Dean’s breath catches in his throat as Cas pushes inside of him, his cock throbbing with need against the tight walls of the young boy. He reaches up to grab Castiel’s hips pulling him in closer and wrapping his legs around his, changing the angle for Cas to slide even deeper in.

“Cas, oh.. Cas…”

He can’t control the sounds getting ripped from his throat any longer, throws his head back against the pillow and screams out, as Cas starts moving, not slow like the last time or slightly awkward like their first time - Cas is moving with precision, determination, every thrust hard and targeted, every single thrust slamming into Dean’s prostate, reducing him to a writhing, squirming mess beneath the blue eyed man.  
*  
Cas decides somewhere in the back of his head, as he’s plowing into the boy below him, that he could do this every day for the rest of his life, and never tire of it. It sparks something inside his belly, and he growls it out in Dean’s name, hissed from his lips as he grabs Dean’s hips and thrusts into him, hard, harder, slamming inside him like he belonged there and only there.  
Castiel moves a hand to Dean’s butt, sliding along the crack and finding some of the lube there that had slipped down, away from his entrance, slicks his fingers with it and then returns his hand to the boy’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Cas’ eyes are dark as they watch Dean, lip twitching when he thrusts in all the way, either from pleasure or watching Dean’s body shake with it, Dean couldn’t be sure which. Cas lets out a broken breath around Dean’s name again, hips stuttering as he pushes in all the way, then pulls out and flips the boy over, on hands and knees, and pulls Dean’s hips back towards him, until Cas can thrust back inside, fully sheathing himself in one long stroke.  
“Ah-…god…dammit, Dean….so fucking tight..”  
Cas grips the boy’s hips tight as he starts thrusting into him again, slower this time, but long, full strokes, out to the tip and then in to the hilt, over and over. Cas leans forward and kisses along Dean’s shoulders, soft, lingering kisses that speak of something more than a fuck, more than just sex with a student that Cas shouldn’t have looked twice at.

*

Dean presses his head down into the mattress, as Cas fucks in him hard and fast. He can’t think anymore, can’t even form other words than ‘Cas’ and ‘god’ and ‘fuck’, as the older man slams inside of him, marks him with ever thrust and every pull on his cock, makes him his. And Dean doesn’t mind. He’d give up everything in this moment, literally everything to stay like this forever. His whole body is shuddering, vibrating with the power of Cas’ thrusts but he manages to lift his hips a little more, allowing Cas slide in even deeper. His lips fell open by now, loud gasps and cries of pleasure ripping from his throat at every movement of his lover. He cries out again, Cas’ name on his lips almost like a prayer. He’s so close, so close and he can’t hold back. Cas is surrounding him, embracing and holding him. Cas is everywhere and Dean wouldn’t have it any other way…

“Cas… please… wanna s-see you…”, he manages to breathe out, the soft sound almost inaudible as it’s whispered in the pillow beneath the teenage boy.

Cas stills behind him, then, for a few endless seconds, nothing happens. Then he pulls out, leaving Dean feeling empy again, until he flips them around one more time until Dean’s on top, hands left and right to Cas’ head, as he sinks down on his lover’s cock again, gasping at the pleasure that rushes through his spent body.  
*  
Cas helps Dean seat himself fully on his cock, grunting out at the tightness that once again envelops him. He hisses slightly, watching himself disappear into the boy, and only when his cock is completely inside does he flick his eyes up to look into Dean’s. Cas stills then, hands wrapping around Dean’s hips firmly, and his entire body is frozen for a moment, breath caught in his throat, eyes wide.  
“…god…you….are so…so beautiful Dean…”  
He reaches up with one hand and pulls Dean down, wanting with every fiber of his being to seal this, mark Dean with his lips and taste him once again, and it’s with regret in his heart that he settles for placing a lingering kiss against the boy’s forehead, both hands cupping his cheeks. Cas takes a shuddering inhale and then moves, shoving his hips upward, feet braced against the bed and knees bent just enough to give him leverage to thrust up, into the boy. Cas lets out a gasping moan and then lets go of Dean’s face, one hand skating down his own body and then jumping up to wrap around Dean’s cock, pulling in rhythm with the slow bouncing that Dean has picked up.  
“Ride me Dean…ride me…make yourself come on my cock…”, Cas whispers, voice rough and ragged as his breath comes in long shaky inhales and exhales.

*

Seconds later Dean is completely lost in the quickly accelerating pace of their moves, in the way Cas’ hips cant up, the sweet slide of his cock deep inside him. He can control the movements better from up here, can decide on the angle and force and he loves it. His hands find the headboard, holding himself up there, as he moves his pelvis up and down again and again. Cas’ husky voice is what finally does the trick, what finally sends him over the edge. He’s sinking down on the dark haired man in one last, powerful thrust, feels him throbbing inside of him, his hand enveloping his leaking cock - and then he’s coming. He arches his back, as he empties himself, splurting over the man beneath him, before he collapses back on the bed, Cas’ slipping out of him that way.

Lying on his back, Dean closes his eyes, feels wave after wave of pure rapture rushing over him, feels his blood boil in his veins, Cas’ name on his lips like an endless chant or a mantra. He feels the man shift, crawling over to him and then he’s kissing his temples, his cheeks, where tears of bliss cover the sweaty skin and Dean lets out a shuddering exhale, pulling Cas close. He’s breathless, not able to say something yet, so he reaches up to let his hand glide over the man’s beautiful face, wiping the sweat off his forehead and letting his thumb stroke softly over his slightly chapped lips. His eyes linger and he feels that tension again, that desire to give in, to break his rules and fucking kiss him senseless. He closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment and when he opens them again, he scrambles on his knees, pushing Cas on his back and climbing back on top of him. He still hasn’t come and Dean wants to finish him, wants to do this the right way. There’s a pattern of his own come all over Cas’ body, even droplets of it up his neck and Dean smiles at the sight. Leaning down, he whispers against Castiel’s ear, feeling him shudder with want at his words.

“You look beautiful like this.. I wanna come on your face some day…”

Then he reaches one hand down to wrap around Cas’ cock, smirks at the man once more, before sliding down his body and closing his lips around the head, licking and sucking, until Cas is the one who’s moaning uncontrollably.  
While Dean’s mouth and hand around his cock send fiery licks of pleasure straight up his spine to melt his mind, making it hard to think about anything, Cas manages to focus on one thing while he’s coming undone beneath his student.  
Dean had said ‘some day’.  
As in ‘some day soon’, as in ‘this isn’t the last time we’ll be doing this’…..as in ‘I want more of this, more of you’. Cas makes a strangled broken sound in his throat as the connotations sink in, as the idea of being with Dean more than just this becomes more than just a flicker of hope, hidden deep inside of Castiel’s mind.  
He moans out a soft ‘Dean….gonna-….gonna come…’, and his entire body arches up toward Dean’s, muscles stiff and shaking as he climaxes.  
Cas slowly comes down from the high, panting and staring at the ceiling. He shivers then, the sweat on his body cooling him now that he isn’t focused on the pleasure coursing through him, and lets out a soft laugh.  
“….you were right…this is a much…much better setting for this.”  
*  
Dean softly chuckles around the slowly softening flesh, swallowing down whatever Cas’ offers him, before pulling off with a wet, popping sound. Licking his lips, he crawls back up, where Cas is lying completely spent, one arm above his head, the other lying loosely to his side. Dean sinks down next to him, still heavy breathing and presses close, for the moment not giving a shit about whether or not this counts as snuggling. He blindly reaches for the thin blanket, pulling it over their naked bodies and then rests his hand against Cas’ steadily heaving chest.  
“Told you.. my bed’s amazing…”  
He closes his eyes and for a moment everything is perfect. He feels comfortably exhausted and unusually… happy……. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he looks down into Cas’ relaxed face, grinning slightly as he speaks again.  
“Now- you were promising me pizza, teach…”  
*  
Cas smirks and chuckles, brushing a hand through Dean’s sweaty hair and over his cheek to brush at the boy’s cheekbone with his thumb. He stares into Dean’s green eyes for a moment, so very badly wanting to kiss him, to just feel the warmth of Dean’s lips pressed against his own, wants it so bad his chest hurts. He swallows then and licks his lips, lying back to look up at the ceiling again.  
“Yeah… go grab my cell… it’s in my bag, and I’ll call a place I know near here…”  
He shifts, stretching slightly and makes a pleased sound.  
“I like hawaiian pizza, so unless you’re alright with pineapple, we’re getting two pizzas.”  
*  
Dean makes a face at that last comment, mumbling “Ugh, gross” before scrambling on his feet. His legs are still shaky and his rear hurts a bit but he makes it to the door, stepping over the clothes they had shed like a snake’s skin and slipping outside in the hallway. He fumbles around in Cas’ bag for a moment until he finds the cell and just as he’s getting up from the floor, his eyes fall on the corner of the sketchbook, looking out of another compartment of the bag. Dean smiles to himself, pulling the book out and placing it on the small table right next to the door, opening it and turning to the newest page. His breath catches in his throat at the image of himself, naked torso and soft smile on his face, eyes closed, asleep and completely at peace. Dean stares at it for a few seconds, then his eyes scoot down to where Cas had made a note.  
‘I want to see what you look like when you wake up’, stands there in his graceful , slightly italic handwriting and Dean bites his lip at the soft sound that escapes his throat.  
He shuts the book again, sliding it inside Cas’ bag and finally makes his way back to the bedroom. Cas is propped up against the headboard by now, blanket still covering his body below his chest and he’s obviously looking around Dean’s room.  
“See anything you like?”, he asks but what had been intended to be cocky and teasing, sounds weak, tender and affectionate.  
Dean stands in the doorframe for a moment, just looking at the man in his bed, wondering when it had come this far, when he had turned in such a girl. When he slips back into bed, Cas has his arm around him, pulling him in, as Dean hands him his phone, eyes on the older man all the time.  
*  
Cas chuckles and pulls Dean closer, murmuring “You” against his forehead, before unlocking the phone and quickly looking up the number of Extreme Pizza, a pizzeria nearby. He orders a hawaiian, then looks at Dean, grins, and orders a second pizza, Meat Lovers, then holds the phone out for Dean to say the address into it. The guy quotes him the price and says “30-45 minutes, man” and hangs up. Cas turns the phone off and reaches over Dean to place it on the dresser, before turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.  
He rubs a hand up and down Dean’s back slowly, admiring the smooth skin kissed with freckles, the way his bones and muscles move as Dean lazily wraps himself around Castiel’s body, resting his head against Cas’ chest. Cas hums softly, and takes Dean’s left hand with his right, intertwining their fingers and brushes his lips over the knuckles of Dean’s hand. He chuckles at the laughter this brings out of the boy, and scrapes teeth gently over the fingers this time, which gives him a shiver and a soft moan instead. Cas smirks and lays their hands back down on the bed, leaning his head down against the top of Dean’s, content in the quiet for a moment.  
It had been far far too long since he’d felt even remotely this excited about someone. The excitement at the beginning of his relationship with Meg was short lived- before the end of the first month they were already in a holding pattern of guilt trips and controlling behavior on her side, and giving in and giving up on his.  
This is different, Cas thinks, and swallows down the emotion that still prods at him to be named. This is something else entirely, something to be explored and unveiled over time, not to be rushed into, more than they already had, anyway. He smiles at that thought and kisses the top of Dean’s head, murmuring softly.  
“Tell me a story…. about anything… just tell me a true story about you, or your life…”  
*  
Dean’s breathing steadily by now, eyes closed at the soft caresses and slowly heaving chest of the other man. When Cas speaks up again, Dean doesn’t open his eyes, biting his lip as he thinks.  
“Anything?”, he asks, sighing softly, as his thoughts wander to a place far away, where guilt and frustration had been reigning over his life.  
Cas nods, breahing “Anything” against the top of his head and Dean throws his worries over board. This is Cas after all… there’s nothing he has to hide, right? So Dean talks. About his parents, how little he could remember after all those years and about how much he misses them nonetheless. He tells Cas about Sam, about how talented he is, how clever, how Dean wants him to have anything in the world. Cas had never asked with words but Dean knows it’s an obvious question, how he and Sam manage to afford an apartment and cover all the costs for school and daily life. So Dean tells him about their mom’s family inheritance, about how Mary Campbell’s family had been incredibly rich and tight-fisted and how Mary had saved the largest part of the family fortune for her children.  
“Sammy’s gonna go to college as soon as he’s done”, Dean says and he’s smiling at the thought “I just… I just know he’s gonna make it out of here…. you know… wife, 1.5 kids, a house in the suburbs… maybe even a dog….. he’s totally a dog person….”  
*  
“I prefer cats myself…my parents never wanted me to have pets, and Meg is allergic though.”  
He grimaces, realizing he brought up his ex, and then realizing he hasn’t told Dean yet that he broke up with her, that they were still living together but that Cas was all Dean’s now. He pauses, not sure if he should, and decides on not telling him when Dean doesn’t respond, just stays quiet. Cas moves on then, and talks about his own life, comparing their lives in the way he speaks.  
He doesn’t miss his parents, even though he sees them most Sundays for a family dinner, that was really ‘more like a guilt trip for not being married and having grandchildren yet’. How every Easter and Thanksgiving, even Christmas, was another time for them to try and convert Gabriel away from his ‘sinful ways’, and back into the ‘Light of God’. He sighs then, and shakes his head.  
“There’s nothing wrong with Gabriel though… there never has been. He’s not happy, right now, but it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s gay. He just wants a stable relationship, and he can’t seem to find someone who likes him enough for that.”  
Cas brushes his hands through Dean’s hair absentmindedly, thinking about his brother, and how lonely Gabriel had seemed the last he saw him.  
“…At least he loves his job though… he’s a writer, writes for a lot of different comedy shows like 30 rock and South Park and Saturday Night Live. Of course, it’s all over the net, but it pays well enough. He actually doesn’t live far from the school…”  
Cas pauses then, once again, realizing he was rambling, and looks down at Dean. It was so easy just to talk, knowing Dean was listening, and not judging him, but just learning more about him, and hearing everything he had to say without interrupting or telling him that whatever he had just said was wrong because of XYZ. He hadn’t had that in a long time either. Dean was opening up new worlds for Cas, just by being there, just by being him.  
“Rambling again… huh?”  
*  
Dean shakes his head, smiling up at him sympathetically.  
“Stop saying that”, he mumbles, lips brushing over the skin of his chest, gently kissing his collarbone, as he looks up at the other man out of bright, green eyes “It’s okay, you know… you can tell me-.. whatever you wanna talk about…..”  
He clears his throat, one of his hands coming up to slide over Castiel’s upper body. Dean leans back, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder, and reaching up to cup Castiel’s cheek, thumb brushing softly over the smooth skin there. They look at each other for a long moment and Dean feels his heart pounding against his ribcage, feels the blood in his veins rush at the sight of Cas, looking down at him with so much tenderness that it almost hurts. He feels Cas shift, leaning down until their faces are only inches apart and Dean can feel his breath on his lips.  
The ringing of the doorbell makes them jerk apart, Dean sitting up straight and Cas scrambling on his feet, searching for his pants and shirt, as he leaves the room to get the pizza and pay the delivery boy. Dean’s breathing hard, hand clamping on his chest, as he feels like his heart would jump out of his body any moment. Just now, seconds ago, he’d been certain that Cas was going to kiss him… He swallows down the excitement and confusion and fear, as Cas returns to the bedroom, two large pizza boxes in hands. Dean gets up off the bed, quickly putting on some shorts and guiding Cas back to the living room, taking the boxes out of his hands and putting them down on the coffee table. He slumps down on the couch, reaching for the remote control to turn on the TV, some baseball game flickering over the screen.  
*  
“Oh, Giants…nice.”  
He looks over at Dean with a smile, and even though it’s just a replay of a previous game, Cas is happy to watch. He grabs himself a few slices of his Hawaiian and digs in, moaning slightly around the pizza, eyes fluttering shut.  
“It might be wrong of me, but if there’s a heaven… I don’t want to go unless they have pizza.”  
Cas sits with his legs spread, the plate balanced on one leg, when he realizes that he doesn’t have anything to drink.  
“Uh, taking a shot in the dark here, but to you have any beer?”  
He raises an eyebrow at the underage boy, wondering if Dean would break a rule about sleeping with his teacher, what else he would bend the rules around.  
*  
“Duh.”  
Dean rolls his eyes at him, stuffing a slice of pizza into his mouth and getting up. He heads over to the kitchen and fetches Cas and himself a bottle from the fridge, before returning to the living room and handing Cas his.  
“Not… a word”, he says, winking at him and sitting back down on the couch.  
He’s finished with his pizza first, always terribly hungry after sex, and once the plate is set back on the coffee table, Dean spreads out on the couch, head resting in Cas’ lap, only inches from his own plate. He doesn’t look at Cas, eyes fixed on the TV, but he can feel the man’s eyes on him and smiles contendly.  
*  
Cas makes a motion like he’s zipping his lips, then smirks at Dean, and uses a key ring on his keys from his bag to open both bottles. He tosses the keys back into his bag and notices that the notebook was returned to his bag, but in a separate area. Cas blushes slightly and looks over at Dean, but the boy doesn’t seem to be acting any differently.  
Castiel takes a sip of the beer and makes a happy sound before putting it back down on the counter. One of the players on the TV makes a play, getting the first home run of the game, and Cas claps and leans forward, watching the game, riveted. He blinks and blushes, glancing over at Dean and smiling just a bit.  
“Baseball is the one athletic thing I like… besides rock climbing. I played in high school.”  
He leans back again and frowns slightly.  
“You’re basketball right?…I’ll have to come watch a game.”  
Cas smirks, and picks up his beer again, arching a brow at Dean.  
“…If you’ll let me…”  
*  
Dean averts his eyes from the TV, looking back at Cas and smiling cockily.  
“Well, if you can handle hours watching me getting all worked up and sweaty without laying a hand on me… sure!”  
He takes a sip from his own bottle and puts it back down on the couch table, before he sits back up and takes Cas’ bottle from him as well. He reaches for the remote control to mute the TV, then moves his legs to either side of Castiel’s body, not yet sitting down in his lap. Leaning down to brush his lips against Cas’ earlobe, he chuckles lowly and breathes soft, seductive words against the hot skin.  
“I could use another round, teach…”  
Cas grabs his ass and pulls him down, grinding their groins against each other a few times, before rolling them over, pinning Dean down beneath him. They do it again, this time slow and considerate, yet not less passionate than before and when Cas collapses on the younger boy, they lie like this for a long time before any of them can move. Dean pulls his teacher up and back to his bedroom, dropping on his bed and pulling Cas in his arms. He’s beyond exhausted but the comfortable buzz rushing through his whole body, as Cas wraps his arms and legs around him lulls him into sleep soon. He snuggles closer, eyes closed, lips slightly parted and just before everything fades away, a soft whisper of ‘Cas’ comes over his lips.


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel falls asleep as well, but not for long. Only an hour after collapsing in bed with Dean, he wakes up, a rush of terror running through him as he doesn’t recognize where he is- it fades the moment he registers who the person laying across his chest is, as Dean murmurs in his sleep. Cas feels his heart pound at that, chest tightening around it like his heart is suddenly too large to be contained by his ribcage anymore, like it wants to burst out from the overload of emotions racing through him. Cas shuts his eyes and runs a hand up and down the boys back, watching the light from the now open windows filter in and wash over Dean’s face. He was gorgeous like this, the moonlight hitting his features and accentuating the cupid’s bow of his plush lips, still bruised and swollen from when Dean was using them on Castiel’s body earlier. Cas feels his breath catch, and he slowly moves out of Dean’s grip, pausing when the boy frowns in his sleep.  
He makes his way back out to the living room and grabs the notebook, and a pencil, then returns to sit beside the bed to sketch Dean. Half an hour and sixteen quick sketches and one long one later, Cas moves back into the bed, the notebook left on the windowsill with the pencil inside it. He crawls back in beside the boy, biting his lip when Dean groans and rolls over, pulling Cas close.  
Cas smiles to himself, and wraps his arms around Dean, kissing the boy’s forehead, nose, cheeks, and smiling when Dean smiles softly, and grunts out ‘go to sleep Teach…’  
*  
Dean’s a late riser. So naturally, when he opens his eyes Saturday morning and blinks at the alarm clock on the opposite of his room, it’s already past eleven. He rubs his eyes, stretching out on the bed and yawning audibly. It takes him a few more minutes of lolling on the mattress, before it dawns to him and he sits up with a jolt. His eyes fall back on the empty bed, heart pounding against his chest as he remembers the last day, the night, the breathtaking sex and shared caresses. But Cas is gone. His bedroom door is off the latch and Dean quickly scrambles on his legs, hurrying out in the hallway and over to the living room. It’s empty as well and Dean lets out a frustrated groan, just when he hears soft clicking noises from the kitchen. He stops in the door frame, his eyes on the slender form standing by the stove, moving a spatula inside of a pan and whistling quitly to himself.  
“I’ve never seen anyone cook in here”, Dean says, voice disbelieving but amused and when Cas turns his head to look at him, Dean blushes a little. The other man looks relaxed and completely at ease, smiling brightly at him.  
Dean makes his way over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek, as he peaks over his shoulder.  
“Mmmh, scrambled eggs”, he states, leaning in to kiss his neck and hum satisfactory against the warm skin “How’d you sleep?”  
*  
Castiel chuckles and leans his head against Dean’s for a second while continuing to stir the eggs about in the pan.  
“Well enough.”  
He doesn’t mention that he’s not used to cuddling, because Meg always wanted to sleep in a certain position, and hated being too warm in the middle of the night. Cas doesn’t tell Dean that it’s the best night of sleep he’s had in months, after he crawled back under the covers after he finished his sketches. Cas clears his throat.  
“I, um, never sleep too late, so I went and got some stuff at the store…”  
Dean raises an eyebrow and then turns around to survey the kitchen, which looks cleaner than it had before, but not spotless. He opens the fridge and Cas blushes at the audible gasp as Dean sees it practically full of fresh ingredients.  
“I can’t cook MUCH, but I figured while I’m here I might as well make some food for you that didn’t come out of a box or a can…”  
He shrugs and turns off the stove, piling the scrambled eggs, flavored with bell peppers, mushrooms, garlic and slices of sausage, onto a plate that already had slices of toast on it.  
“…and if I’m going to come back….”, Cas turns around to look at Dean after putting the spatula down on the counter top and, crossing his arms over his chest, leans against the counter.  
“…it’ll be nice to know that you at least have mustard.”  
*  
Dean is speechless for almost a full minute, before he shakes his head slowly, closing the fridge and looking back at Cas again.  
“If you’re coming back, huh?”, he finally says, leaning against the counter, hips canted so that Cas had a good view on the curve of his ass “Well, Mr. Novak - if your cooking’s as good as the sex, you’ve just earned yourself a season ticket.”  
He chuckles and walks over to get a set of plates and cutlery from the cabinets, placing them on the now clean table and sitting down, when Cas sets down the plate with the eggs and toast on it. There’s already peanut butter and jam on the table, but Dean waits until Cas piles half of the eggs on his plate, before starting to devour them. It’s the best breakfast he’d had in a while - except the one at the diner the day before - and he doesn’t hide how pleased he is with Cas’ performance, giving him a thumbs up and a muffled ‘Befinitely Ffeafon ticket’.  
*  
Cas blinks, trying to understand Dean for a second, a vacant slightly confused look on his face as his head tilts to one side, eyebrow raised. He gets it in the next second and can’t help but laugh, loud and happy, eyes wrinkling at the corners as he shakes his head at Dean and leans back in the chair.  
“Heh…well thank you…for the ‘fea-fon ticket’.”  
Cas looks up at Dean, smiling slowly as he watches Dean for a moment, before turning back to his plate. Cas eats slowly, savoring every flavor of the food and finishing his plate. By now, it’s almost noon, and he stands up and takes his plate back to the sink, rinsing it and setting it aside. He turns back around and then licks his lips before leaning down to plant a soft lingering kiss on the side of Dean’s neck.  
“Shower…?”  
Castiel stands back up and stretches, nodding his head toward the hallway.  
*  
Dean stuffs the rest of his PBJ toast in his mouth, before nodding and getting up from his chair. He leads the way to the bathroom, feeling Cas’ eyes on him and shrugging off his shorts, when they’re inside and the door is closed. He steps inside the spacious shower, holding out a hand to pull Cas inside, once he’s done undressing. Dean’s never been the biggest fan of joint showers, never really had the chance to do it either, as most of his one night stands usually didn’t even stay the night. But like so many other things, this is different with Cas. Dean lets him pin his body against the bright blue tiles, lets him kiss his neck and jaw and moans approvingly, when Cas reaches for the shower gel, squeezes a proper amount of it on his hands and starts rubbing it all over his body. Dean bites his lip, when Cas actively leaves out that one part Dean wants him to touch so badly, and holds his wrist tight, as he looks up at him out of pliant eyes.  
“I think you missed a spot”, he whispers against Cas’ temple, licking the mixture of water and sweat off his skin.  
*  
Cas smirks and glances up at Dean through eyelashes thick with water droplets.  
“I did, didn’t I?”  
He pushes the boy against the shower wall, the cold tile making Dean shiver and let out a soft moan.  
“…We’ll have to fix that…”  
Cas slowly sucks on his neck, one hand wrapping around the other side to barely brush fingers through Dean’s hair. His other hand slides down Dean’s wet, slick torso, running over the short patch of curls to wrap around his semi-hard cock, chuckling as Dean arches into it. Castiel is slow as he moves his hand, marking Dean’s neck even further with long sucking kisses, biting gently here and there, just a firm press of teeth around amounts of flesh made to feel delicious instead of hurt. Cas ruts his hips against Dean’s thigh, his own hard-on filling rapidly as he strokes the boy. It’s lazy and sweet, the warm water making everything naturally slip and slide, skin on skin contact sending thrills down both of their spines.  
“You are so beautiful, Dean…”, Cas whispers against his ear, and twists his wrist on an upstroke.  
*  
Dean smiles softly, as Cas keeps stroking him, his grip tightening every now and then and making the boy elicit sweet sounds of approval. He’s so incredibly hot, being touched like this under the jet of warm water and his head feels dizzy from just this lazy morning hand-job. He lets his head fall forward, resting his forhead against Castiel’s shoulder, as the older man keeps pleasuring him, rutting his hips against Dean’s more often and determined now. Cas’ words are like honey, dripping on Dean’s skin, making it tingle with arousal, with satisfaction and something else, something that makes his chest tighten with a feeling that is not of a sexual nature. He bites his lip to stifle a loud moan at this thought and arches his hips forward, into Cas’ touch once more. It only takes a few more minutes, Cas’ hand going faster now, gripping harder and then Dean’s coming and sliding down the tile wall, body limp and a look of sheer content on his wet face.  
“Jesus”, he breathes out, chuckling to himself, as Cas sinks down to join him on the shower floor, hands gently on Dean’s chest and neck “I could get used to that….”  
*  
It takes every single ounce of Castiel’s strength not to kiss Dean then, and the flicker of pain that goes through his eyes is obvious, even in Dean’s blissed out state. Cas nods silently and just leans forward, bringing their foreheads together as he shuts his eyes.  
“Me too,” Cas whispers, voice thick with arousal and barely withheld emotion. The more time he spent around Dean, the harder it was getting to think that this was just sex, because it wasn’t…not anymore. Cas looked forward to seeing Dean’s smile, hearing his laughter, even more than he looked forward to sinking down inside the teenager and bringing them both to orgasm.  
Cas pulls away with a clearing of his throat and stands back up slowly, grabbing the soap to wash himself. He had to calm himself down, or he was going to say something he would regret, because the minute the words left his mouth he knew that Dean would freak out; hell, Cas is freaking out internally and he’s the one who has them running through his head, chanting over and over every time Dean turns those green eyes on him, every time he sees another slice of who Dean really was, inside, under the mask.  
*  
Dean notices the look on Cas’ face, of course he does, but he averts his eyes, slowly scrambling back to his feet, as the other man continues washing himself. Denial had always been one of his talents…  
They leave the shower only to tumble in Dean’s bed again, repeating what they had done the night before. Only when there’s a small pile of four condoms on the floor next to Dean’s bed, the teen slumps down in Castiel’s arms, falling asleep immediately.  
This time Castiel is there when Dean opens his eyes again. He’s sleeping or at least dozing, eyes closed, lips slightly parted and Dean can’t help but smile and blush at the closeness of their faces. He can feel Castiel’s breath on his face, can smell his own body wash on the older man’s skin and shudders at the thought of that. He reaches up with one hand, fingers brushing as gentle as possible over the man’s lips, thumb resting on the corner of his mouth eventually. Dean sighs quietly and disentangles himself from Castiel’s arms carefully, before tip-toeing over to the windowsill where the sketchpad lies. Leaning back against the wall, Dean flips to the newest addition of drawings and has to suppress a chuckle at the sight of the countless sketches of himself.  
“Get your kicks of watching people sleep, huh?”, he mutters to himself, shaking his head and then returning to the bed.  
When he climbs back in, he pulls Cas’ arms around him, snuggling against his warm body and closing his eyes as he drifts back into a comfortable sleep.  
*  
They both wake up in the late afternoon, and Cas teaches Dean how to make a macaroni casserole that was actually somewhat healthy, and certainly had more nutritional value than the microwave stuff that the boy had been eating. They laugh as the make the food, chattering together about the different names of cheeses and how stupid they all were, about how an oven actually works and the difference between convection and conventional ovens, and why convection ovens were far superior for most tasks. Dean talks about his love of cars, and Castiel actually listens, and asks questions, wanting to know everything he could about the things Dean loves. They sit down on the couch and watch a movie, an old black and white film, 12 Angry Men, something that Dean would have passed by with a grimace earlier, but Castiel had said it was a good film and they should watch it.  
Dean sits on the edge of his seat, practically yelling at the characters on the TV, as Castiel snickers behind his hand, happy to see the teen so enthralled.  
They’re so lost in the movie, and each other, laughing and talking animately during commercials that they don’t hear the door open, don’t see the tall figure standing in the doorway. Castiel notices him first, and stares for a moment before smiling.  
“Um, hi! ….I’m guessing you’re Sammy?”  
*  
Sam stands there for a moment, eyes scooting from his brother to the strange man and back, before realizing that the guy had talked to him.  
“Sam. But yeah, hi”, he says, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to the open kitchen and fetching himself a lemonade, before returning to the living room.  
Stretching out a hand to shake the man’s he grins, as the penny drops.  
“And you must be that teacher Dean’s been swooning over for weeks now.”  
A slipper only barely misses his head, as Dean swirls around and throws it at him and Sam ducks away, chuckling a ‘Have fun, guys’ and heads to his bedroom. Turns out returning early from his sleep over isn’t as bad, as he’d thought.  
-  
Dean is fuming. Actually he is furious. His head’s all red, as he scrambles on his legs to go fetch his slipper and walk over to the kitchen to get himself a beer. He knows it’s unfair towards Cas but he can’t just sit down next to him again and resume to watch a fucking - although pretty good - movie. He’s grateful that Cas doesn’t come after him for a while, leaving him to blow off some steam alone, before returning to the living room and slumping back down next to him.  
“I don’t even know what he’s doing here already”, he grumbles, reaching for the chips and stuffing a handful in his mouth.  
*  
Castiel can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes from his lips.  
“Well…he can join us for dinner…it should be ready in just a few minutes.”  
He pauses then, and shifts so he can look Dean straight in the face, a slow frown appearing over his features.  
“Unless you didn’t want me to meet him? Is that why you’re upset?”  
Cas has no idea what’s wrong. He figured he would eventually meet Sam… if Dean would let him. Maybe Dean’s pissed it hadn’t been on his terms, or maybe it’s because he wasn’t ready yet for Sam to meet Cas, and vice versa, but it had happened anyway.  
He reaches out and touches Dean’s neck, hand placed soothingly around the back of the boy’s neck, thumb stroking gently along the tanned skin.  
*  
Dean flinches at the touch and for a moment he wants to move, away from Cas’ gentle hands and understanding words. It takes him a lot of willpower not to and when he turns his head up to look at him again, there’s a frown on his face that mirrors the one on Cas’.  
“No that’s.. that’s not it, okay?”  
He groans in frustration, raising a hand to cup Castiel’s around his neck.  
“It’s nothing… forget it, okay? You should check on the casserole, I’ll go let him know to put on some decent clothes.”  
He leans over to press a kiss against Cas’ forehead, before getting up and in the hallway towards Sam’s room. He slips inside, pulling the door closed behind him and glares at Sam, who’s grinning like a cheshire cat.  
“What the hell was that, smartass?”, Dean growls but Sam just shrugs, taking off his jacket, still smiling that fucking smile.  
“Okay, listen… you can have dinner with us - and trust me, Cas is an awesome cook - under ONE condition: no more hints or something like that, you hear me?!”  
When Dean returns to the kitchen, Sam in tow, they look innocent enough and both sit down, as Cas tells them to. Dean sighs quietly, his legs restless, his hand gripping the fork tightly. This was going to be awkward.  
*  
Cas serves them up heaping portions of the casserole, the cheese melting to keep everything together. There was parmesan, mozzarella, feta and cheddar all working together to hold together the macaroni, tomatoes, sliced olives, and ground turkey meat. He sets the pan down in the middle of the table and then grabs himself a beer and opens it. He places a reassuring hand on the back of Dean’s shoulder as he walks behind him to get to his chair, smiling at him slightly, before taking his seat.  
“So, Sam,” and Cas emphasizes the name Sam to let the boy know that he’s not going to call him ‘Sammy’ again, “How old are you? I don’t think Dean ever told me…”  
He sips his beer while he watches the emotions flicker over Dean’s face, the teen obviously distressed by this. Maybe he should go… Cas takes his phone out of his pocket and turns it on, sends a quick text to Gabriel asking him what he’s up to, and if he’s busy tonight.  
At the worst, Cas would catch the BART back home once dinner was over. At the best, Gabriel could come pick him up and then he could spend some more time with his brother.  
*  
Dean frowns as Cas just starts conversing with his brother like it was nothing, Sam telling him willingly that he’s fourteen and going to high school and that he likes dogs and ice cream and shit. Dean checks the clock above the kitchen door, nervously picking around on his plate. This all turned out so utterly and completely wrong, that Dean just wants to scream and throw his plate against the wall, smash his beer bottle or something equally brutal. It’s not Sam’s fault, not really, and of course it isn’t Cas’ fault either. So, as usual, Dean feels guilty for not handling the situation better, for letting it get out of hand. He’s quiet while they eat, only answering to questions from both Sam and Cas monosyllabically. He’s almost relieved, when the doorbell rings and practically jumps out of his seat to open the door. Gabriel chuckles as he sees Dean and - after patting Dean’s shoulder - pushes him out of the way, entering the apartment on his own accord.  
“Nice place*”, he trills, making his way over to the kitchen, where Cas is rinsing the plates and glasses they used.  
Dean frowns at him, leaning in the doorway, eyes scooting from Cas to Gabe and back.  
“What’s he doing here?”, he mouths at Cas, when Gabe turns his back on him, a look of confusion on his face.  
*  
Cas blushes and quietly murmurs to Dean, “I could see you were uncomfortable… so I decided to make a hasty exit… Gabriel came to give me a lift home, Dean.”  
He turns back around just in time to see Gabriel grin toward the kitchen and saunter with purpose into the room. Castiel’s face pales, immediately realizing what Gabriel saw, and how dangerous that could be.  
“Shit.”  
He walks into the kitchen quickly, just in time to witness Gabriel leaning over Sam, one hand on the back of his chair the other on the table, effectively pinning the tall boy in place for Gabe to look over.  
“My my my..aren’t you adorable.”  
Cas hisses out ‘FOURTEEN, GABRIEL’, and Gabriel blinks, standing back up, eyes widening as he turns around to look at his brother. His voice is full of disbelief when he speaks, jaw hanging open.  
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”  
“No, I’m not.” Cas shakes his head, voice serious.  
“But he’s so-”  
“Yeah I know.”  
“But-”  
“Yeah, I KNOW.”  
Gabriel takes a deep breath and sighs, crossing his arms over his chest before looking back down at Sam.  
“Too bad, would have had some fun with you, kiddo.”  
Gabriel winks at Sam, golden eyes dancing with mischief.  
*  
Dean is torn between laughing his ass off at the look of pure shock on Sam’s face and giving Gabriel a nut shot. He doesn’t get a chance to do either and settles for shocked, when a smile cracks over Sam’s face and he reaches up to pull Gabriel’s face down, lips pressing against his cheek just for a second. In the following silence, Sam chuckles, getting up and leaving the kitchen with a look of mischief on his face.  
“You should leave… now…”, Dean says almost automatically, eyes on Gabriel full of aversion.  
He doesn’t look at Cas, just can’t right now and waits until he sees out of the corner of his eye, that the men start moving. Castiel leans into his personal space for just a second, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek, before leaving the room. Only when the apartment door falls shut, Dean can move, storming out of the kitchen and into Sam’s bedroom.  
“Are you out of your mind?!? He’s over thirty!!”  
He doesn’t give Sam a chance to reply, leaving the room not without slamming the door shut behind him. He stares at the ceiling of his own room for a very long time, before he finally falls asleep, deeply missing strong arms around his shoulders and a soft breath against the side of his face.  
*  
Gabriel wanders down the hallway, stumbling a little, as he touches his cheek and flushes bright red, fingers lingering over where Sam’s lips had pressed against him. Cas rolls his eyes at his brother, and guides the shocked man into the elevator where Gabriel leans against the wall in stunned silence. Cas shifts his bag on his shoulder and finally lets out an exasperated sigh.  
“What is it, Gabe?”  
“…Cassy…”  
“What?”  
Gabriel turns gold eyes on his brother, a slow smile full of wonder appearing on his face.  
“I’m totally in love.”  
Cas makes a choking sound and Gabriel lets out a soft mirthful laugh before exiting the elevator, his younger brother trailing behind him letting out a litany of ‘You can’t!’ and ‘Gabriel, seriously!?’ and ‘FOURTEEN GABRIEL, FOUR-FUCKING-TEEN!’  
Gabriel just giggles gleefully as they hop into his jeep and drive away, Cas looking up at the top floor of the apartment building, hoping for one more glimpse of Dean before the night closes in on them.  
*  
The next day is a Sunday, and Gabriel and Cas spend it together, wandering around San Francisco just to explore things for a bit. About half way through the day Cas can’t take it anymore and tells Gabriel to shut up about Sam, because it can’t happen, will never happen, and Dean would castrate him if he even thought Gabriel was THINKING about Sam.  
Gabriel pouts, of course, but shuts up after muttering, “I know it can’t really happen, Cassy…just think the kid is cute is all…”  
Cas sighs and hugs his brother around the shoulders, before taking him to the In n’ Out in Daly City for lunch. Cas did need to get home and plan his lessons for the coming week, so sadly he was home by 2pm, locked in his room to avoid Meg and her uber glare.  
*  
Dean spends the whole day in his room, not letting Sam in and not replying to any of his half-hearted tries to talk to him. He looks at the sketchpad several times, at Castiel’s drawings of him, at the passage he had written about how Dean had been his first and that he’d changed everything. Around 4pm he flips open his phone and writes a text to Cas.  
Dean: I’m gonna kill Gabe.  
It’s not what he wants to say but he hits ‘send’ anyway. He feels even more guilty afterwards, throwing his phone in a corner of his room and slumping on his bed, then pulls the sketchpad close and writes just two words.  
‘I’m sorry.’  
*  
Cas replies within minutes, his words obviously rushed from the few typos that were made.  
Cas: Dean, you dont have to worry about Gabriel. He wouldnt try anythin with Sam. He knows better than that. Sorry all the same though, obviously didnt think he’d hit on your brother…but what was with Sam kissing him?  
He puts the phone down and goes back to his lesson plans, this time working on constructing a sculpture assignment and trying to figure out where he could get enough clay for cheap enough that he wouldn’t be eating ramen noodles for the next month. Cas sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, cursing the fact that the arts were becoming less and less important as time went by, and the economy continued to struggle in the gutter.  
*  
Dean gets up reluctantly, not sure if he wants to read the text but doing so anyway. He stares at the screen for a minute, before texting back:  
Dean: How should I know? Fuckin hormones, whatever! Just make sure that leech doesnt show up here again  
He turns his phone off after that, groaning in frustration when his eyes fall on the homework that would be due tomorrow. He’s totally not in the mood for shit like that. He tries watching some TV for a while but turns it off quickly, as a black and white movie flickers across the screen.  
*  
Castiel frowns at that, knowing that while Gabriel was indeed a leech, it wasn’t exactly nice for Dean to talk about him like that.  
Cas: Hey, my brother just flirted, yours was the one who actually acted on it! Calm down Dean, I told Gabriel to back off, and he will.  
Castiel goes to bed early, wondering how he ended up in such a bad mood after what had, overall, been the best weekend of the past few years of his life. He sighs and buries his head under his pillows, not bothering to try and pleasure himself, as even that doesn’t seem appetizing in the moment.  
In the morning Meg walks in on him in the shower, and doesn’t even try to avert her eyes as Castiel flushes and turns away. She lingers in the doorway and tries to start a conversation with him, snarkily commenting on the bruises all over Castiel’s chest and neck, before Cas snaps at her to ‘Get OUT, Meg!’. She slams the door, knocking a mirror off the wall, which thankfully lands in the trash can, but still breaks.  
Cas sighs, thinking to himself that this week was already looking terribly bleak.  
He gets to school late, around 8am, but drove in with 100 pounds of clay for the class so he excuses himself to the kids waiting outside the door as he struggles to open it while carrying the first twenty pound load of clay. Two students help him carry in the other loads of clay, and by 8:15 when the bell rings, Cas is feeling a little better about the day.


	10. Chapter 10

Art class is third on Dean’s timetable that day and when he gets to the room, there’s already a few other students inside. So much for talking in private… He stops at his desk anyway, pulling out the sketchpad and putting it down before Cas. He catches Castiel’s eyes for a long moment, hopes that that look says what he couldn’t say yesterday, what he only wrote down in the book, before turning around to walk to his table. He doesn’t really pay attention to class that day, too focused on how Cas moves, how he gestures while talking about the current subject, their new assignment and how his eyes gleam all the time. Dean finds himself smiling before long and when the class is over, he walks over to where Cas is stuffing away art supplies and stops close behind him.  
“I’m sorry, Cas”, he says and it’s nothing more than a whisper “I.. I totally overreacted…”  
*  
Cas pauses for a moment, then speaks quietly.  
“It’s fine Dean…”  
His voice is calm, no malice or hidden agenda underneath the tone. He was already over it by the time he woke up that morning, a little tired and irritated about Meg, but only looking forward to seeing Dean again. He turns around and offers Dean a soft smile.  
“Do you know what you’re going to sculpt for the project?”  
The sculpture project was to sculpt an idea or an emotion. So of the examples Cas gave were fury, love, sympathy, and freedom. His students seemed excited by the idea, whispering amongst themselves as he handed out the large hunks of sienna colored clay. The project wasn’t due for a week, so they had over the weekend to think about it, while continuing to do more projects in class as daily activities, along with their journals.  
*  
Dean shrugs his shoulders, a little embarrassed as he admits that he hadn’t really paid attention in class. Cas shakes his head and quickly repeats the assignment, Dean eagerly nodding as he memorizes it. When Cas is done, he closes the cupboard door and returns to his desk, Dean in tow.  
“Listen”, he begins, voice quiet and unsure “I didn’t wanna.. throw you out like this….. I hate the thought that you called your brother because you thought I didn’t want you there… it was just…”  
He frowns, clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck nervously.  
“It’s just that I didn’t think Sammy would be home so soon - and it totally caught me off guard, okay?”  
He looks down on his shoes, waiting for a reaction, anything, as he’s pretty sure that can’t be it, that Cas has to be at least a little hurt by how Dean had treated him. The bell rings and Dean flinches at the sound, knowing that he has to hurry through half the school building to his biology class but not willing to leave the room, before Cas had said or done something.  
*  
Dean’s voice sounds worried, and Cas smiles slowly, looking up at him. There are people walking by in the hallways, and anyone could come in at any time. He shakes his head gently, the smile on his face humorous.  
“I know Dean… it’s okay.”  
He tilts his head to one side and then purses his lips for a moment in thought before speaking again.  
“I’m meeting Gabriel for dinner tonight… but could I see you after?”  
Cas bites his lower lip for a second and then looks down at the journals in front of him, murmuring under his breath.  
“I’d invite you and Sam, but I have a feeling that you would be uncomfortable… Gabriel’s making cheeseburgers though.”  
Castiel almost drools at the thought, knowing his brother to be a better cook than him by far, favoring delicious full fat meals and sugary desserts.  
*  
Dean frowns at how quickly Cas is brushing the subject off and offering to meet him later. He’s not quite sure why he’s suspicious but he kind of is… Still he nods, throwing his bag over his shoulder and heading for the door.  
“Where do you wanna meet?”  
*  
“Gabriel’s house. I can text you the address later…. will 7 work?”  
Castiel looks up at Dean and gives him a soft smile, and a wave as Dean nods and walks out the door.  
The rest of the day goes fast for Castiel and by the end of the day he’s floating just a bit, happy to be spending time with Dean later, hopefully having him get to know Gabriel and realize he’s not a total lech like Dean thought. He takes his car home and showers, then picks up supplies for the meal and goes over to Gabriel’s around 6pm, making sure that it was okay with his brother than Dean and Sam joined them before texting Dean the address.  
Gabriel’s reaction, of course, is to grin at Cas like Cas had just bought Gabriel the best birthday present ever. Cas then spends the next half an hour berating Gabriel, telling him that he had to behave around Sam or Dean would never trust him to be around his younger brother, and then Dean wouldn’t want to be around Gabriel either.  
Gabriel sighs and turns around to look at Cas, his face serious for once.  
“Cas… why do you care so much if I get along with this guy?”  
Castiel pauses in rinsing the lettuce for the burgers, flushing slightly, then looks down at the sink and continues rinsing, his voice quiet when he speaks.  
“Because I really care about Dean… I….I want you and Dean to get along, because I can’t see myself without him in the near future.”  
“…Cas…. are you in love with this kid?”  
Castiel stills, hands gripping the head of lettuce as the water runs, the only thing disturbing the quiet of the large kitchen. He licks his lips and then looks over his shoulder at Gabriel.  
“…I think so Gabriel…”  
Gabriel stares at Cas, then nods and goes back to mixing spices into the ground beef. They were quiet at they worked, both of them realizing the ramifications of what Castiel had just admitted out loud. Besides his family, Cas had never told anyone that he loved them. Sure, he cared deeply about people, especially good friends and girlfriends, but he had never said ‘I love you’. Not even to Meg, at the beginning, when their relationship had been good.  
For Cas to be thinking that he loved Dean, when they’d only been seeing each other a few weeks, it was deep and Gabriel suddenly got why it was important for him to try to behave.  
*  
Dean feels horrible when he parks the car in front of the small apartment house where Gabriel lived and Sam practically jumps out of the car. He grabs his brother’s collar, holding him back, as they take the three stairs up to the entrance door and Dean rings. It takes a few seconds until he lets them in and Dean and Sam take the staircase to the second floor, where the door to Gabe’s apartment is already open. Dean’s handshake is stiff and not exactly what you would call friendly but he’s trying and even lets Sam say ‘hi’ too, before pushing him past the other man and inside the apartment. It’s nothing special, although a little larger than theirs and definitely more tastefully furnished. Castiel is in the kitchen and when Dean sees him, his heart leaps.  
“Hey”, he says, smiling a little as he steps close and pretends to have a look at what he’s preparing, to have an excuse to press close, hands lingering on the older man’s hips for a moment, before pulling away to eye the spacious kitchen.  
“Thanks for… having us”, he adds, when Gabriel and Sam join them in the kitchen, glaring over at their host with menacing eyes.  
*  
Gabriel offers Dean a grin before darting his eyes to Sam. The smile softens slightly, and Gabriel looks back over at Dean.  
“You’re most welcome, Dean. Hope you like your cheeseburgers homemade and juicy, because that’s what we’re having.”  
Castiel turns around from putting all the condiments for the cheeseburgers on a platter, and wraps an arm around Dean’s waist, brushing his fingers along Dean’s waist to reassure him.  
“Gabriel also made a pie, Dean… apple.”  
Gabriel grins again and shrugs, flushing just slightly as Castiel starts in on a description of Gabriel’s short stint in a bakery in Las Vegas, where he learned how to make delicious desserts. Castiel puts the platter of lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and onions on the table in the dining room, before walking out onto the balcony where the small barbeque was cooking the burgers. He looks over his shoulder at Dean and beckons him to follow.  
Gabriel leans with his back against the door jam between the kitchen and the dining room, and looks at Sam, eyes teasing as they dart over the boy’s facial features.  
“How are you that tall, and only 14? How is that fair?”  
*  
Dean is grumbling something about ‘how Gabriel was trying to bribe him with pie’ but he follows Cas.  
Sam had made his way into the living room, looking around the wide space with interest. The couch is gigantic, black leather and Sam walks over and sits down, just to find out it’s surprisingly soft. He grins over at Gabriel, who’s watching him with a longing look on his soft features and shrugs.  
“I’ve always been tall for my age”, he says, crossing his legs and taking in the rest of the room, the big flat screen TV on the wall, the bookshelves and CD collection on the wall opposite the windows.  
“What kind of music are you listening to?”, he asks, pointing at the rack.  
*  
Gabriel shrugs and walks over the CD rack, slender fingers walking over each of the CD cases, hitting every other one.  
“Everything, anything…I’m not that picky, but I’ve always been a fan of bands who make use of a cowbell.”  
He looks over at Sam, a smirk on his face, wondering if the boy would get the joke, or if he was too young to know that SNL skit.  
-  
Cas flips the burgers and then places the two types of cheeses on the burgers. He looks over at Dean, then back inside, and seeing their brothers busy talking to one another, pulls Dean over to one side of the balcony to kiss Dean’s neck, fingers scratching through his hair and tugging gently.  
“Wanted you so bad today….”  
He whispers, his other hand slipping around Dean’s waist and pulling him in close, fingers gripping a handful of fabric.  
“…glad you came tonight Dean…”  
*  
Sam just chuckles, not really sure what to think of Gabriel’s last comment and gets up to have a look at the CDs himself.  
“The Spicegirls? Really?”  
He snorts, putting the CD back on the shelf and grinning at Gabriel.  
-  
Dean lets himself lean into the touch for a moment, breathing in quietly as Cas’ lips ghost over the skin of his neck.  
“Mmh… Cas… not now okay?”  
He disentangles himself from the other man gently, giving him a small, apologetic smile and nods towards the door, guessing that Sam and Gabe still are inside.  
*  
“Hey, they were geniuses. Because seriously, if you wanna be my lover, you have to get with my friends…”  
Gabriel arches a brow at Sam and grins, walking a few steps away from the boy, he crosses his arms over his chest and rocks on his bare feet.  
“Why, what’s your musical tastes? Let me guess..something more refined…like Aqua. Barbie Girl is your favorite, right?”  
Gabriel’s tone is light, teasing, bantering with someone who could obviously take it, and Gabe loved when people played with him like that.  
*  
Cas nods, and drops his hands away from Dean, knowing why Dean was so withheld, but still feeling awkward about it. He turns back to the barbeque and puts the buns on, toasting them so that they were warm for when the cheeseburgers were done, which would be soon.  
“…When’s your next game…?”, Cas asks, voice a little quiet, after being rebuffed by Dean.  
*  
Sam chuckles at Gabe quoting from the song and then clicks his tongue.  
“Nah, I prefer Justin Bieber and the Jonas Brothers, you know?”  
He winks at the other man, then shakes his head, laughing.  
“To be honest: I listen to almost everything, as long as it’s got a melody and not every second word is “kill” or “motherfucker”. I like Linkin Park and Daughtry, if you know them… and when I need to relax I listen to movie soundtracks.”  
-  
Dean bites his lip, leaning agains the railing of the balcony and letting his gaze wander over the houses and gardens beneath.  
“In two weeks”, he says eventually, looking back at Cas, who busies himself with the grill and food “Wait, you… you really wanna come?”  
He must’ve sounded more shocked than he actually was, cause Cas looks up with flushed cheeks and a sheepish expression and nods hesistantly.  
“That is… if you want me to…”, Cas asks and Dean quickly moves closer, taking Cas hand into his and forcing him to look at him.  
“Course I want you to! I mean… ‘d be great to have my personal cheerleader…”  
*  
Castiel laughs and shakes his head, poking at the burgers to check if they’re done.  
“As long as you don’t want to see me in a mini skirt and pompoms, sure, I’ll be your cheerleader.”  
He glances at Dean out of the corner of his eye and smiles shyly.  
“Also, I’m not chanting ‘defense’ or ‘go team’…. I do have a giant foam finger if you want me to bring that though.”  
Cas’ smile quirks up, showing he’s teasing, then he looks back at the burgers and declares them done. It takes only a few more minutes to plate all of the burgers and buns on a platter, piled high. He hands the platter to Dean and then shuts the lid on the grill before turning around to go back inside.  
-  
Gabriel chuckles, and pulls out a CD from the racks and puts it into his CD changer. He turns it on and the first strains of electric guitar pulse out of the hidden speakers into the room, the obvious beginnings of ‘Closer’ coming out as Gabriel arches a brow.  
“Told you I listen to everything… I like your style though, kiddo.”  
He winks and then walks out onto the balcony to pester Castiel about the burgers, and almost runs into his brother who was coming back inside.  
“Woah!…Ah- they done Cassy?”  
Cas throws Gabriel a glare at the nickname, but nods over his shoulder at Dean.  
“Just finished…”  
“Alright! Let’s eat then!”  
*  
The mood at the small balcony table is a little tense at first, Dean alternately glaring at Gabriel and staring on his - admittedly delicious - burger. But after half an hour and some really funny joke of Gabriel, Dean starts to like the quirky and rather sarcastic man and realizes, that they actually have a lot in common. Soon he and Gabriel are fighting over the most delicious food in existence and Sam and Cas share meaningful looks and deep sighs. Dean eats five burgers, before declaring that he’s ‘stuffed’ and goes inside to help Gabriel prepare the dessert, leaving Sam and Cas on the balcony.  
“Geez, where did you learn to bake like that?!” he asks after trying a tiny piece of the apple pie Gabriel made, his face rapt, a wide smile on his crumby lips.  
*  
Castiel looks over at Sam, watching as the youngest Winchester looks inside at his brother and Gabriel, a strange look in his eyes.  
“…He’s 31, Sam..”, Castiel says, his voice soft. It’s more a reminder than a reprimand or a scolding, and he tilts his head to one side and smiles sadly.  
“I know Gabriel can be…forward…but he knows you’re only 14. I’m sorry you aren’t closer together, age wise.”  
-  
Gabriel giggles as Dean tastes the pie, grinning from ear to ear.  
“That good huh?”  
He scoops ice cream onto each of the plates of warmed up apple pie, and gives Dean Castiel’s plate, small slice of pie, lots of ice cream, before taking Sam’s out to him. He sets it down in front of the teen with a lopsided smile, and then sits down to Sam’s right, Castiel’s left.  
“I learned at a speciality bakery in Las Vegas. It was called Candy Cocks. They were basically a bakery and confectionary shop that made only sex related treats. Cock shaped candy, lollipops, cakes, vagina shaped chocolates, pies with cookie cutter shapes taken out of them that looked like cocks or breasts…you get the idea.”  
It was a crude idea, lewd and raunchy in every way. It was hilarious as well. It was totally Gabriel. Castiel shook his head and smirked at his brother, digging into his food once Dean set it in front of him.  
*  
Sam just shrugs at Castiel’s words, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘and Dean’s only 18’ but before Cas can say something, Gabe and Dean are back with the pie and conversation starts to lead into another direction. By the end of the dinner, Dean and Cas had called a truce, even bonded over common interests and thus Dean was acting pretty normal towards Cas as well. When the clock strides 10pm, Dean reluctantly breaks away from where he and Cas had stood side by side, arms around each other’s waists, watching Sam and Gabe play table tennis in his hobby room.  
“Thanks for the invitation, man”, Dean says, as he’s patting Gabriel’s back and pushing Sam out on the hallway determinedly.  
He shifts to look at Cas, smiling a bit awkwardly and saying “See you tomorrow, Cas” before turning around and making his way to the car.  
*  
Gabriel waves a goodbye to the brothers, then turns back to Cas and grins. Cas raises an eyebrow.  
“What did you do Gabriel?”  
“Who, me? Nothing…”, he lies, and grins again.  
Castiel narrows his eyes at Gabriel, who finally sighs and throws his hands up in the air.  
“I just exchanged phone numbers with Sam… we’re just going to be friends ok?…He’s an interesting kid, more mature than his age suggests. I swear it’s like he’s a 20 year old stuck in a 14… no, see, even his body is that of a 20 year old. Fucking unfair that his birth certificate tells us he’s only 14.”  
Sam intrigued Gabriel, and for the first time in months Gabe didn’t feel the need to go out to the clubs to find some nameless face to fuck in one of the back rooms. He just wanted to get to know Sam more, even as platonic friends.  
Cas sighs and pats his brother’s back, then walks into the kitchen where they do dishes together. The time they’ve spent together in the past week has done wonders for both brothers, bringing them closer together than they’d been since Cas had started dating Meg.  
Cas goes home that night and writes in the notebook, crossing off Dean’s ‘sorry’ in his ‘I’m sorry’ and replacing the word ‘sorry’ with a million other phrases, filling up the entire paper with things Castiel had figured out or knew about Dean.  
Things like ‘smarter than I pretend to be’, ‘creative’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘fantastic in bed’, ‘loyal’, ‘kind’, ‘strong’ and ‘loved’. Now the page had ‘I’M’ in the center, sketched darker with Castiel’s pencil, so that when you read it out loud it would read that Dean was all those things that Cas wrote down, because to Cas he is. Dean is all of those things and so much more, and Cas falls asleep smiling to himself, happy to dream because his dreams are almost always of Dean these days.  
*  
True to his word, Cas shows up to cheer for Dean two weeks later. Even if he doesn’t wear pompoms or a cheerleading outfit - which Dean thinks would totally suit him - Dean feels better than he had for a long time. He blushes at the way Cas would gesticulate and yell at the opposing team and would equally passionately jump off his seat, whenever Dean made it close to the hoop or scored a point, which happened quite often that day. When they’re done, Dean’s team had won by 4 points and despite being all sweaty and beyond exhausted, Dean can’t stop grinning at the way Cas claps and whistles, beaming into his direction. Dean showers and meets Cas afterwards at the bleachers, leaning wearily but happy against the railing and smiling back at him. They can’t do much more than touch their hands gently, Cas brushing his thumb over Dean’s palm but it’s enough for Jo Harvelle, standing behind a near tree, to become suspicious…  
*  
That night they return to Gabriel’s apartment, which Cas has started staying at fairly regularly, and they fuck on the balcony in the dark, looking out over the glittering lights of San Francisco, at the bay bridge and far across the expanse of water, Oakland’s ports and large cranes just waiting to be used.  
Cas bites into Dean’s shoulder, thrusting into him from behind as Dean holds onto the railing, grunting with exertion as he pushes into the boy over and over, body trembling not from the cool night air but from how good Dean feels, how right. Cas pulls Dean back, arching the teen’s back until their faces are close together and Cas can whisper into Dean’s ear how badly he wants to see him come, how hot it is to watch Dean’s face when he goes over the edge.  
Cas wraps a hand around Dean’s cock and thrusts into him hard, sliding just right to hit that spot inside him to make Dean see stars, and Dean cries out with Cas’ name when he comes. Cas follows right after, gripping Dean’s body close, eyes shut as he whispers ‘Fuck’ and ‘Dean’ and wants so very badly to continue the phrase that he’s said in his head now for at least a week… but doesn’t dare to.  
They shower together, and afterward lay entwined on the couch, face to face, Dean’s head tucked under Cas’ chin, ear pressed to Cas’ chest to listen to the slow steady thudthud of his teacher’s heart. Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s body and presses a lingering kiss against his the top of Dean’s damp head, leaving his lips there so when he speaks, it’s muffled.  
“…do you have a favorite star Dean?”  
*  
Dean’s spent, his body’s clean but still feels hot and deliciously dirty when he and Cas cuddle on the couch. He chuckles at Cas’ question, lifting his head a bit to look up at him out of half-closed eyes.  
“Star? Like celebrities? I don’t know man, I’d really like to fuck Johnny Depp, or- you know… get fucked by him… you could watch…”  
He laughs at the grunt the dark haired man makes at that, quickly adding “Come one, it’d be hot! You could fuck me together!”  
Cas interrupts him by spinning them around, pinning Dean beneath him and playfully glaring at him.  
“Okay, okay… but seriously? Stars?”  
He sighs, looking past Cas’ shoulder out of the window at the millions of lights over San Francisco.  
“What can I say, I don’t even know the any name of any star so… no, I guess I don’t have a favourite one…”  
His voice is soft as he looks back up at Cas, hand gently cupping his face as he continues “…but I’m guessing you do, huh?”  
*  
Once again, the urge to kiss Dean is overwhelming, so Cas settles for a soft peck to his forehead.  
“Mmm…lots of them. I’ll take you out of the city someday, down the coast on Highway 1. There’s a few beaches that are far enough away from the light pollution of bigger cities that we’ll be able to see more stars…”  
He brushes his fingers through Dean’s damp hair and chuckles.  
“They’re not as sexually appealing as Johnny Depp… but I think you’d like it all the same.”  
Cas settles back down beside Dean, on his back, one arm slung over his head to drape off the side of the couch. He murmurs softly, naming off constellations that he knows off the top of his head.  
“Big dipper and little dipper.. ursa major and minor, Orion the hunter and his belt.. that’s where my favorite star lives… the middle star of Orion’s belt. Alnilam, or Epsilon Orionis…”  
He makes a strange backwards 3 symbol in the air with his outstretched finger.  
“That star’s mine. Sometimes hard to find it, even though it’s one of the brighter stars in the sky…”  
Cas turns his head to look at Dean, smiles slightly.  
“We’ll have to find a star for you when we go.”  
*  
If Dean didn’t know Cas by now, he would think he was joking. He just chuckles at his fascination with the skies and its residents and wraps his arms tighter around the body beside him.  
“Sure, teach… I can’t wait…”  
And although his tone is light and teasing, Dean is serious. Cause nowadays there’s almost nothing he wouldn’t do with and for Cas.


	11. Chapter 11

They still meet during lunches and fuck but it’s not as frequent as before and certainly not daily anymore. Dean would never admit it - neither to himself or anyone else - but misses Cas. He’s so busy with homework assignments, volunteering for the school production group and basketball practise though, that visiting him had to wait. So every time Dean is free, he surprises Cas and the sex is even more spectacular at those times.  
*  
Castiel hands back the most recent project, a black and white charcoal life drawing of someone who had an influence in your life. Most people chose their parents, or a role model like a politician or musician or Nobel prize winner. Dean had chosen Sam, and the rendering he’d done of Sam’s smile and eyes and hair had been amazing. Cas had given him an A+, the emotion behind the drawing so apparent that you could feel it vibrating off the page.  
He smiles as he sets the page in front of Dean, tapping it with one finger.  
“Good work Dean…”  
He goes around the rest of the classroom and hands back all the projects, before standing at the front of the class and explaining their next project. It was to be a design of a better mouse trap. They could use any and all supplies, from drawings to paintings, sculpture to Popsicle sticks and glue.  
“Due tomorrow everyone. And, one more rule: you can’t spend more than $10 on supplies, and you have to work with a partner!”  
Everyone groans, but partners up quickly, no one wanting to be stuck with someone they don’t like.  
*  
Dean doesn’t really pay attention to what Cas is saying after he handed back the last project. Staring down at the painting and at the small pencil A+ in the right corner of it, he can hear his blood rushing in his ears. When the bell rings at the end of the class, Dean leaves the room without looking back and ignoring the weird, clenching feeling at imagining Castiel’s confused face. Dean skips the rest of the day, leaving school to sit down in the corner booth of a nearby diner, staring at his coffee pot and the untouched slice of apple pie in front of him. He can’t exactly pinpoint why but thinking of Castiel’s smile as he gave the painting back makes Dean furious.  
He’s not that talented, despite Castiel’s relentless attempts of making him believe he is - Dean isn’t special, Dean isn’t an artist. The painting is nothing more than a sketch, a rough one at that, capturing what he appreciates most about his brother - yet nothing worth such a good grade. Sure, Dean has had positive reactions to his work before, has gotten good grades when he concentrated on a task or actually prepared himself for a test. But it is blatantly obvious what made Castiel decide to reward his student and lover and Dean won’t have it. He’s never taken charity and he sure as hell would not start now.  
He leaves the diner in the afternoon and walks back to school, finding the hallways completely empty. Castiel is still sitting in his classroom, when Dean storms in, slamming the door behind him and throwing the sketch of Sam on his desk.  
“You know, I really didn’t think we had this kind of relationship, teach”, he blurts, glaring at Cas who looks utterly shocked.  
“This”, he points at the painting, at the small letter scrawled into the corner “is a joke! Do you think I’m an idiot? I don’t need your charity, teach! If I wanted a good grade in return for blowjobs, I would’ve told you!”  
Cas still looks more than confused and Dean is almost sorry for a moment. But then he feels his chest constrict and his throat getting dry and he turns around without sparing Cas another look, without giving him a chance to say something and leaves the classroom.  
The next three days are torturous. Dean hates himself for his excessive reaction but isn’t willing to make the first step, to apologize. So he does what he’s best at and ignores Cas as good as possible. He leaves his partner hanging, not participating in the homework Cas had assigned and receiving an F for it. It almost feels satisfying, but only almost. By Friday Dean still hasn’t talked to Cas and to his disappointment Cas hasn’t made a single attempt of talking to him.  
*  
The bitterness and fury in Dean’s voice and upon his face as he railed at Castiel for daring to give him an A+ made something inside of the teacher curl up and hide, shivering away from the lick of anger that Dean’s words carried. He didn’t know what to say after that, so it was just as well that Dean stormed out, leaving Castiel alone in his classroom, the drawing of Sam sitting on his desk mocking his confusion and the ache in his heart. The red A+ that was supposed to carry such good connotations stared up at him, sneering in it’s inability to feel the rift it had just caused between Castiel and his lover.  
That night Castiel went home and pinned the drawing to his wall, right next to his works from Da Vinci and Van Gogh. By the end of a sleepless night of thinking, he’d finally found the words he wanted to say to Dean when he next saw him, but they stuck in his throat, digging into the flesh like rusty barbed wire, refusing to come out no matter how badly he needed to explain, no matter how badly it hurt not to speak to Dean for yet another day.  
On the third day the nagging feelings that had been sparking to life deep within him had come to full force.  
It was a sad realization when it took something like a giant spread of silence and tension between him and Dean for Castiel to realize just how much the boy meant to him.  
Just how much he loved him.  
Castiel spent his time with his other students, or out with Gabriel, so even though his time was eaten up with other things and people the three days that had passed went by so slowly he swore he could feel each second dripping through his fingers as sand through an hourglass; he was just waiting for the moment when Dean would come back and give him a chance to explain. Castiel wouldn’t force the point, he had a sense of pride after all, and chasing after someone who was so obviously angry with you that they couldn’t even look at you wasn’t something that would do either of them any good.  
So he went from class to class like normal, and their notebook sat on Cas’ desk, untouched, unwritten in, until Friday afternoon when Castiel could no longer bear to look at it, so gently placed it in the bottom drawer of his desk, and shut it away from sight.  
*  
The clock ticked by and by the time the school bell rings for the last time that week, Dean has decided to end this stupid, defiant silence. He walks into Cas’ classroom without knocking, but stopping at the door, leaning against it, while staring over at the teacher who’s sitting at his desk, reading glasses on his far too perfect nose.  
‘I’m sorry for yelling at you’ is what he wants to say but the words that come from his mouth are “What the hell is wrong with you?”  
He lets his bag sink to the ground, biting his lip and staring at the other man out of angry eyes.  
“You think I’m your bitch? Fine - but don’t you think you could at least pretend being sorry for treating me like one?”  
*  
Castiel stills at Dean’s words, his pen hovering over the paper in front of him, a life drawing sketch of a bird someone had done for his ‘nature’ assignment this week. Cas shuts his eyes for a moment, then opens them again and quickly marks the drawing ‘A’ before moving on to the next in the pile.  
His voice is remarkably calm when he speaks, but he doesn’t look at Dean.  
“If you have something to say to me, come in, and shut the door behind you Dean.”  
He waits while Dean hovers in the doorway, but refuses to look up at him, just continues to mark grades on papers and shuffle them across his desk as he finishes each one. After a few moments Dean makes a grunting sound of irritation, then walks in and shuts the door behind himself so that it shuts just a bit harder than necessary. Cas pauses again, a muscle in his jaw ticking, waiting until Dean walked over and threw his bag on the ground before flopping into the seat across from him, the desk seemingly tiny in the grand canyon of invisible distance between the two.  
Castiel finally puts down his pencil and looks up at Dean, clasping his hands together in front of his mouth so all Dean could see was his nose and eyes. He speaks quietly, voice just slightly muffled by his hands.  
“….I gave out 15 A+s in your class that day Dean. I only gave out 4 grades lower than a C, and that was because those students either didn’t do the assignment, or half assed it right before class, and I could tell.”  
Castiel stands up, his body stiff and eyes hard as he stares at Dean.  
“For you to make the cruel and unreasonable assumption that I would favor you over the others because we are involved makes a mockery of me as a teacher, and this relationship… whatever this is.”  
His voice goes a little bitter, angry, with his last words, and he looks away.  
“…You are infuriating… that you think so little of me, and of yourself…”  
Cas takes another calming breath and then turns back to look at Dean, this time leaning on his desk so that he was leaning over it to stare into Dean’s eyes.  
“You may never see your worth, Dean Winchester, nor your talent… but do NOT disparage those who do. You’re a complete idiot sometimes, and it makes me so angry to think that you can’t accept that the grade I gave you was one you deserved, one you fucking EARNED, not with your mouth but with your mind.”  
By now Cas is practically spitting the words, his face slightly red and pinched with anger. When he’s done he stands back up, away from Dean, as if he needs the distance to calm himself back down.  
*  
Dean has no other choice but to listen, to swallow down the disappointment and anger and desperation in Castiel’s voice and feel even worse than before. He had had no idea that this hit his teacher so hard, that this had actually hurt him. He doesn’t what to do in that moment, doesn’t know whether to yell back or to keep staring at the floor beneath his feet. When the silence between them gets practically unbearable, Dean finally speaks again, words quiet and careful.  
“It wasn’t that special”, he says and still can’t look up into Castiel’s eyes, feeling too guilty, too ashamed “And I just…”  
He stops, voice fading into nothing, the words just disappearing. He’s not used to this. To people being nice to him, to appreciate what he’s doing, to actually believe in him. This and the fact that by every passing day he feels more strongly for this strange, conflicting man - it freaks him the fuck out. Finally he raises his head, looking over at Castiel, who’s standing a few feet away from him, looking down on him with those unbelievably blue eyes, full of hurt and as much as Dean wants to avert his gaze again, he finds he simply can’t.  
“Cas, I.. I just don’t see what you see!”  
He shakes his head and gets up as well, walking over to where the other man is standing and grabbing his wrist, laying his hand into Cas’, palm up.  
“I know how to fix my car. I know how to make decent microwave pasta - but I know nothing about art! All I’m doing is trying and pretending - and I can’t see how any of my work would deserve your attention……”  
*  
The stupid rule that Dean had put forth without even speaking, the ‘no kissing’, it was making Castiel nuts. In that moment a kiss would mean so much, the press of his lips against Dean’s, putting forth every ounce of emotion he feels for the boy, explain to him how Cas feels without ever saying a word. But he can’t. So Cas does the next best thing, and raises Dean’s hand to his lips, presses a kiss into the center of Dean’s palm, his eyes clenched oh-so-tightly shut as he just lingers there for a moment. When Cas finally speaks his voice is once again calm, but there’s an undertone of such utter need there that has to be obvious to Dean.  
“Dean… you are the most loyal, amazing person I have ever met. The depth of your emotions for your brother shows through in how you portray him. Does Sam really look like your drawing? No, not exactly… but how you draw his eyes, so full of wonder and child like curiosity…That shows how you see him. Even the way you emphasize his smile, making it bigger than life, or his hair, just this side of too long…every thing you chose to put in there, even unconsciously, shows a bit more about you, and about the subject you’re portraying.”  
Cas sighs and drops Dean’s hand, taking a painful step away, his heart lurching forward back at Dean even as his body moves in the opposite direction.  
“I can’t make you see what I see. That’s impossible,…. but…. I can tell you what I see, and why I think you’re important, and special, and remarkable.”  
Cas looks up from where he’d been staring at the floor, slumps slightly as he sits on the edge of his desk. His face is a little sad, but more than anything, determined with his eyes staring into Dean’s own.  
“…and I’ll keep telling you until you start to believe it yourself.”  
*  
Dean wants to believe. He realizes it in this moment. He really does. He wants to see what Cas sees, wants to know how he can have faith in someone like himself, how he can trust in him this much. He feels his cheeks blush, heat rising as Castiel’s words sink in and for a moment all Dean wants to is run, run away from so much affection and all the responsibility coming along with it. Instead he takes a step forwards, his hands finding Castiel’s and intertwining their fingers.  
“You’re unbelievable”, he says and when Cas looks up into his eyes, Dean gives him a small smile, before he adds quietly, not much more than a whisper “I’m sorry” before pulling Castiel’s arms around himself and moving closer into the soft embrace, his body pressed flush against the other man’s.  
He kisses Castiel’s neck gently, nuzzling at the short, dark hair covering his ears and breathing him in. He’s missed this, missed Cas and being this close to him.  
*  
Castiel’s hands press against Dean’s back, holding him close as Dean nuzzles into his neck. Cas’ eyes shut slowly and he hmms at the warmth flowing through him from the closeness he’d missed so much. Castiel lets his hands run over Dean’s back slowly, touching him in the way he had wanted to in the last few days, had craved knowing even though the distance between them had made it impossible.  
He thought for a moment how amazing it was that only a few words could make them come back together again, could make them melt back into one another.  
“Dean…”  
Cas backs away slightly, hands sliding up along the boy’s sides, over his ribs.  
“I missed you….”, Cas confesses, the hint of pink flushing over his cheeks.  
He moves in again, this time pressing against Dean, pushing him back against the blackboard. He leans in to kiss along Dean’s jawline, nibbling over his ear, down his neck. Dean’s skin so warm and soft under his lips, was like an instant aphrodisiac to him, apparent from the hardening line in his slacks as he grinds against Dean.  
“Missed this….”  
*  
Dean moans quietly at the soft touches, at the way Castiel’s fingers skating over his clothed body makes him go pliant beneath him.  
“Mmme too”, he sighs, stretching his neck to give Cas more space to kiss him “Sorry for… acting like a child…”  
He grins then, licking his lips, his voice cheeky as he speaks again “But then again… I’m only 18… I don’t know it better, right?”  
He gets a soft but definite nudge at that and chuckles slightly, before letting his hands drop to Castiel’s sides, tugging at his shirt. Neither of them thinks about the still unlocked door, neither of them is able to even form a coherent thought - until there’s a hesistant knock on said door and they scatter apart, staring at each other for a moment, before Dean’s sinking to his knees and shuffling backwards underneath the teacher’s desk, just in time as Joanna Harvelle walks inside.  
“…Professor Novak?”  
There’s suspicion in her voice and for a moment Dean is sure she might’ve heard something, might’ve seen his foot or something just before he disappeared under the desk. But then she goes on, apologizing for bothering the teacher and asking him about the current homework. She stays a whole fucking ten minutes and when she finally leaves, Dean’s butt hurts and he’s more than annoyed. Castiel is looking at him with an apologetic look and Dean reaches up to cup his cheek, before pulling his hand back again.  
“That was close…”, he says and they both know that this could’ve been easily the end of whatever this thing between them is.  
“Cas.. that was fucking close….”  
*  
Cas sighs and nods, then reaches out to pull Dean close and kiss his forehead.  
“Dinner, tonight?”  
He pulls away then and sits back down in his chair, but swivels it so he can face Dean.  
“…we probably can’t see each other much here anymore… we’ve been pushing it, doing this as often as we have in my classroom…”  
Cas smiles then, cheeky as he grins up at Dean.  
“Not to say I don’t enjoy ‘tutoring’ you after hours… but I think that if I want to keep my job and not be fired for fucking one of my students over my desk, that we’ll have to stop seeing each other on school grounds.”  
He sighs heavily then, grimacing a bit at the thought of not getting to see Dean’s face when he comes as often, or no longer being able to take the day’s frustrations out on Dean’s sweaty form after he was done with basketball practice. This was not going to be a fun change to either of their lives.  
*  
Dean groans but nods. He knows it’s better that way, safer - he doesn’t want Castiel to lose his job but most importantly, he doesn’t want this to stop. He walks behind Castiel’s chair, leaning down to press a kiss on his head, before grabbing his bag and walking back to the door.  
“Dinner. Tonight. And we’re gonna pick up where we left off, teach…”  
He smiles, eyes full of mischief, before slipping out the door and leaving Castiel alone.  
He sends Sam away that night, telling him to stay with one of his friends from school so when Cas rings the doorbell around 8, Dean is alone and more than pleased to see his teacher standing in the doorframe. Dean pulls him inside, hand fisted in his shirt, yanking Castiel’s back against the wall next to the door and moving in to kiss his neck.  
“Change of plans”, he gasps in between nipping and sucking at warm skin “Dinner’s postponed… need you inside me first…”  
*  
Castiel had come dressed up in clean dark wash jeans, a silk grey shirt and a black waist coat, ready to take Dean out for what would be their first real date. The second that he’s pushed quite forcefully against the wall by Dean though, that plan goes out the window. He moans, hands reaches around the boy’s body to yank his shirt up, fingers sliding over every inch of bare skin as it’s made available for his hungry eyes.  
“Dean…”  
He shivers as Dean nips along his neck, up to his ear, to repeat his words, emphasizing the last ones with a hiss and a grind of his hips against Castiel’s own. He groans slowly, fingers gripping around Dean’s back. Cas shoves away from the wall and grabs Dean, lifting him up so that the boy has to wrap his legs around Cas’ waist. He walks quickly into Dean’s bedroom letting Dean’s body down on the bed so that he can lean over him to undress the boy in quick motions, yanking his shirt off and tossing it away, followed quickly by his pants and underwear so that Dean was naked for Castiel. Cas pauses, hovering over Dean, and just takes in the miles of softly tanned skin and gorgeous taut muscle.  
“..Fuck you’re beautiful Dean…”  
Cas leans in then, and kisses over Dean’s forehead, down the side to his cheek, and back over the bridge of his nose the corner of his mouth. His hands slide over Dean’s form, caressing in quick motions over planes of hard muscle that arches and writhes under him.  
“Wanted you so bad this week….”  
He slides his hand down to wrap it around Dean’s cock, pumping gently as he keeps speaking into Dean’s ear.  
“Came to the thought of riding you until you screamed last night…”  
*  
Dean’s breath catches in his throat at Cas’ caressing and stroking him, at the quiet words he’s whispering in his ear. The image is suddenly consuming his mind, Cas, on top of him, Dean inside his beautiful body and Dean can’t suppress a low moan at the notion.  
“Do you.. you want me to do it?”, he asks, still a little breathless and feeling his heart pounding against his ribcage, making it close to impossible to stay calm, to focus on the man above him.  
He’s never been too keen to top, sure, it had its perks - but after almost five years of a gay sex life, Dean was used to bottom, freakin loved it even. It was his only way of giving in, of letting someone else take control and just guide him. But now that Cas had brought it up, Dean couldn’t forget the image of him on top of him, slowly riding his cock, that beautiful face blissed out and rapt.  
*  
Castiel flushes bright red and pulls back, hovering above Dean so he can look him in the eyes. Cas quickly realizes that he hadn’t used quite the right phrasing, having been far too enthralled with Dean’s reactions to his hands. He slows his stroking on Dean’s cock and licks his lips, wondering how to explain that when he said riding, he’d meant fucking Dean hard from behind, riding his ass until the boy came so hard he screamed it out. Instead, a slow smile appears on his lips, and Cas nods the tiniest bit.  
“I’ve…. actually been thinking about it… about a week now…”  
He leans down and nips along Dean’s neck, up to his ear again, voice husky and gravel rough.  
“I know you love to feel me inside you… but would you settle for being inside me?”  
Cas licks along the shell of Dean’s ear, eyes shutting slowly as he inhales the scent of the boy. Freshly showered, given how strong the shampoo and soap smell was, but under it was exactly what Cas was searching for- that smell that was just Dean, his natural scent that shoved Castiel into a tail spin of arousal.  
*  
Dean shivers at Cas’ words, feels his cock twitch at the notion of just that, being inside Cas, filling him like he had done so many times before.  
“I-…”, he starts, getting interrupted by his own soft sigh, as Cas keeps gingerly touching him “I dunno…”  
He bites his lip, leaning his forehead against Cas’ shoulder, hiding the blush on his face.  
“I think I do… want it… sometime…”  
He takes a deep breath, feeling a warmth growing in his chest and basking in it for a moment, before continuing slowly, quietly.  
“But not now… okay?”  
He still can’t bring himself to look back up, feels his cheeks heating up even more at the realization of how awkward this conversation had turned out to be…  
*  
Cas pauses, having not even thought of the possibility that Dean would decline the offer that he had made without a second thought, just shoved it out there.  
“Oh…okay…”  
He nuzzles his face into Dean’s neck and hesitates with his hand on the boy’s cock for just a split second, before continuing what he’d been working on before, sliding his fist up and down in slow loose strokes to work Dean up into a frenzy. His mouth opens to breathe hot air out against the boy’s neck before he licks and kisses down to the crook of Dean’s neck and latches on there, sucking a hicky into existence.  
It was strange, being rejected like that, and how hard it hit inside of his chest. It was probably for the best though, considering it would be new territory. This was basically make-up sex, and they both needed it to run smoothly, to be what they already knew and were familiar with.  
Cas’ hand speeds up and he swipes a thumb over the tip, brushing a drop of precome back down Dean’s cock as he bites gently into the muscle of the boy’s shoulder and moans. This was good, for both of them. Castiel found himself pushing away the awkwardness and pain in his chest in favor of opening up to the arousal again, the idea of burying himself to the hilt inside of Dean, of watching as he came undone with each hard slapping thrust.  
*  
Dean lets Cas take care of him, lets him move his hand up and down his length, faster, grip tightening with each stroke, until Dean is reduced to a writhing, shaking mess. His fingers dig into Castiel’s shoulders, holding onto the other man almost desperately. His breath is coming in short, hissing gasps now, as he’s pressing his lower body so much closer.  
“Y-you’re not… not angry with me, are you?”, he asks in between moaning, opening his eyes almost reluctantly, looking up at the dark haired man with worry “I pro-…..promise to… to do it, Cas but… right now… I need you, Cas….”  
He feels Cas stiffen, his hand slowing down for a moment, as he’s staring down at him, taking in Dean’s words and trying to make sense of them.  
“Please…”  
Dean doesn’t know why he’s asking, practically begging but he’s so close, hasn’t been touched for too long, missing the teacher’s hands on him and not willing to settle for anyone else. He knows this is bad, knows that it’s not what he had planned or thought would ever happen. He clings at Castiel, his hands cupping his face, as he looks back up at him, eyes watering with exertion and exhaustion and lust.  
*  
Castiel shakes his head and smiles sadly, surprised that the boy could think he was mad.  
“No…”  
He leans down and brushes a kiss over Dean’s forehead, his hand squeezing gently and pressing his thumb along the underside of Dean’s cock.  
“Not mad…”  
Cas backs away then, quickly stripping his own clothing off until he matched Dean for nudity, his body shaking slightly with the need to be inside of Dean. He reaches for the lube and a condom, knowing now by heart where they are in Dean’s room, and quickly flips Dean over, pressing his face into the mattress as he kisses down the boy’s spine.  
“Tell me how you want it Dean…”  
The first lubed finger is slow, explorative and crooking, brushing over Dean’s prostate and then pressing there, just as Cas’ other hand wraps around the boy’s cock again, working on the flagging erection.  
“Want to hear you…”  
A second finger slides inside quickly, Cas less concerned than usual with how quickly he moved to prepare Dean, even though he was still using plenty of lube.  
*  
Dean lets himself being manhandled, hiding his face in the mattress as Cas slides his hand over his back and pushes inside of him without much warning. Dean gasps at the cool sensation of his lubed fingers but relaxes quickly, tilting his hips up a bit, wanting to be closer to Cas.  
“Mh…… I-… I want..”  
He raises a hand to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles to stifle a low moan, when Cas keeps finding and stimulating his prostate.  
“I want it… slow.. and… want to see you…”  
He breathes out audibly, tilting his head to the other side, eyelids fluttering shut at the overwhelming sensations of Cas’ hands on him and inside of him.  
*  
Castiel is still for a moment, not moving a muscle even to breathe after hearing Dean’s words.  
‘Want to see you’  
Cas’ heart aches at that confession, so personal and intimate, the idea of watching your partner during sex, being able to see one another and lock eyes, it was something he didn’t think Dean was ready for, so he hadn’t pushed it. For Cas though, it was how he felt closest to his partner, and when he locked eyes with his past partners when they climaxed, it was almost as if he could feel every spark of pleasure that rode through them, just by the way their eyes dilated and fluttered, squinted or shot wide open.  
He kisses Dean’s backside and withdraws his fingers before helping the boy to flip back over. Cas piles a couple pillows under Dean’s ass, arching the boy’s hips up for a better angle, and then slides his fingers back inside, stretching Dean to accommodate him.  
“Okay Dean…”  
Cas leans over Dean and looks into the boy’s eyes, propping himself up on one arm as his other twists and scissors fingers inside Dean’s hole.  
“Tell me when you’re ready…”  
He wants to hear Dean ask for it, beg to have Cas inside him. The sudden surge of need to have Dean ask him like that is raw and powerful, overtaking every other emotion inside of Castiel. He just knows that he wants Dean to need him, the same way that Cas has already discovering he needs Dean. It’s a terrifying thought, and sometimes it keeps him up at night, the idea that he loves someone so thoroughly and completely that he actually needs them in his life, couldn’t imagine his life without them. It makes his throat tight as he watches Dean writhe under his hand, his chest throb with pain at Dean’s beautiful face contorting with each gasp or moan of his name, the nickname Dean had given him.  
Castiel has to feel it, the need coming off Dean in waves as he fucks him into the mattress. It’s a drug he’d only tasted a handful of times with Dean, but he knows he’s already addicted to it, the worst kind of high that leaves you aching for more for days afterward. Dean is so beautiful, so hypnotizing, that Cas knows he could never get enough, never possess the boy fully, and yet he doesn’t want to. He wants Dean to want him, not be captured by him. It would be all the better, all the more fulfilling if Dean came to him willingly like he was now, arching his hips up for more, more, more…  
“So beautiful…”, Cas mumbles under his breath, blue eyes wide as he takes in the boy beneath him.  
*  
It almost hurts how gentle Cas is, how considerate and careful. His fingers have found just the right pace as they’re pushing inside and withdrawing rhythmically. Dean has his legs spread widely, making space for Cas to kneel in between, letting him see everything. He feels vulnerable like this and feeble but it’s Cas. Just looking into his eyes, as he is preparing him, steadily stroking him to full hardness, while his other hand is stretching him, opening him up, is like an aphrodisiac. He won’t last long, not with being treated like this, with being looked at like Cas is looking at him. He swallows heavily, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, when Cas presses his fingers in again, finding his prostate unerringly.  
“I’m.. ah…..”  
He throws his head back, chest heaving as he tries to breathe steadily.  
“Cas, I’m… I’m ready…”  
*  
Cas withdraws his hand once more and then slides on the condom from the already opened package, rolling it on with slick fingers and then adding even more lube just to be sure. He crawls up over Dean, one arm bracing himself above the boy on the bed, the other using his hand to angle his cock just right. He brushes the head over the entrance, watches as Dean reacts almost violently, shivers and arches his hips up even more, an open invitation as the boy’s mouth drops open around a gasp.  
“Cas…”, he breathes, and it’s all Cas can do not to slam home inside of Dean in that moment. He shivers instead, and presses in achingly slow, every inch he slips further into Dean bringing yet another soft moan from him. He grips Dean’s hip with his hand, making sure that as he pushes inside Dean can’t slide away, but his eyes don’t look down at where they’re connecting like they usually do. Normally, it’s entirely too erotic and fascinating not to watch as Dean’s body swallows him to the hilt, but now all Castiel wanted to do was watch the boy’s face react.  
And so he did, unblinking blue eyes staring into Dean’s, mouth parted in breath as he shudders with each passing wave of pleasure.  
“…F…fuck….Dean..”, Cas whimpers, and bottoms out inside Dean, their bodies fully connected below.  
*  
The way Cas looks at him almost is too much, too intense. Dean can’t avert his eyes, can’t stop looking back at him, as Cas slides inside of him almost without resistance. Dean spreads his legs further, wrapping them around the older man’s hips and pulling him in, the angle allowing Cas to slide even deeper inside of him. Dean lets out a strangled moan, lips parted, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of being filled again, finally… His hands find purchase on Cas’ shoulders, pulling him down, closer until they’re face to face, noses touching, breath mingling. Dean’s eyes drop to Castiel’s lips and for a moment they hold their breath, knowing exactly what both of them want and unsure if this was the right time. But the moment passes and Dean tilts his head back, baring his throat to the other man, letting out a throaty moan, before looking back up again and nodding, slowly.  
“Need you, Cas…”, he whispers and he’s not sure if he’s talking about sex or everything else…  
*  
Castiel’s mouth chases Dean’s almost unconsciously as the boy pulls it away, and something inside Cas retreats as well, protected from yet another rejection that he should have known was coming. They don’t kiss… that’s the rule.  
Instead Cas buries his face in Dean’s neck and kisses there, starting up a slow rocking motion with his hips. He holds one of Dean’s legs up, right under the knee from the outside, holding him still as Cas pushes and pulls, thrusts in and out of Dean’s body. His other forearm is on the bed, bracing his weight along with his knees, his hand fisting around clumps of sheet. Low moans break his throat at the slow roiling heat that builds deep in his abdomen, a spring coiling down deep, the tension working harder and harder with each thrust inside Dean’s tight heat.  
“So good Dean….so good”, Cas mutters against his neck, and bites another mark there, sucking a bruise to life so that it blooms in reds and purples across Dean’s tan skin.  
‘Mine’, Cas thinks, and emphasizes the thought with a particularly deep stroke inside of Dean.  
*  
The intensity of all of this is breathtaking. Dean rocks with Cas, following his movements and pushing his own body closer, taking up his pace and meeting his thrusts. Dean is boneless beneath the other man, helpless and at Cas’ mercy and he loves it. Cause somehow this is different. Somehow, even though this should’ve been just another round of sex, messy and dirty, both of them taking what they wanted. Instead it’s personal, intimate and gentle and nowhere near meaningless. Dean’s eyes fall shut after a while, after Cas pulling out and pushing in countless times, building a slow but passionate rhythm that somehow is just right for both of them. Dean’s mouth falls open and he’s moaning wantonly, rewarding the older man for every time he hits his prostate. The nickname falls off his lips again and again, like a chant, a prayer, a benediction. Cas is all around him and for the first time since they had met and fucked in the backroom of The Haight, Dean feels connected, cherished. And he realizes that it hadn’t been simply anger or annoyance, driving him mad for this past week. That Castiel’s supposed payment for sex hadn’t hurt his pride… but his heart. He opens his eyes again, blinking through the veil of droplets of sweat on his eyelashes, up at the man steadily thrusting inside of him. It’s there, suddenly and without a warning and breathtakingly obvious. He’s in love with Cas.  
*  
Castiel feels his climax racing up on him, and he sits up quickly, one hand still holding himself above Dean, the other reaching between them to wrap skillfully around the boy’s cock. He moves with ease, in and out of Dean, his hand matching the lazy pace that was only now slowly picking up.  
All the while Cas just stares at Dean, his lips parted in breath, eyes unblinking as they take in the sight below him. He was so far gone, so in love with this boy that it hurt to realize, his chest tightening with such strong emotion that he let out a strangled sob around Dean’s name, and a whispered warning that Cas was close, so close.  
Every fiber of his being wanted to kiss Dean then, wanted to seal whatever it was that Dean was letting happen here, happen between them, permanently into memory. Cas needed to sear it there, into the flesh of his mind and heart, so that if this ever ended like he was terrified it would, that he would at least always have this moment.  
He didn’t know what was going on for Dean right then, as he thrust into the boy hard, sparking off pleasure that ticked him up to the very edge of the rollercoaster so that he was looking down into the plunging abyss. Castiel didn’t know what this was to Dean, and they had never talked about it.  
All he knew in that moment, as he thrust deep inside Dean and came, gasping out the boy’s name and taking in the lust blown green eyes, all he knew was that he was making love- and everything he’d ever done in the past paled in comparison to how he soared in that moment.  
*  
Dean feels his own orgasm creeping up on him, taking him over almost by surprise. His body tenses up, clenching around Castiel’s throbbing dick as the older man comes and not for the first time Dean wishes desperately he could really feel it, could feel Cas filling him, coming inside of him and the simple notion of it is what brings Dean over the edge as well. He clamps at Cas’ body, going completely rigid for a second, before white lights explode before his very eyes and Dean is coming too, hot and wet all over Cas’ hand and stomach. It takes him longer than usual to come down again, to steady his breathing, to finally open his eyes. He tugs at Cas’ neck, hand pulling him down and next to him, lips finding the other man’s neck and jaw and kissing him there, drinking in the sweet taste of sweat and sex. He can’t talk, is afraid of whatever he could say would destroy this moment, would betray him and ruin whatever it was they had. The words tumble around inside of his head. He’s in love with Cas. Cas. He loves him. Love. It’s so new and unexpected and fucking scary. Dean never loved. Not once, not a single person, other than Sam and this was completely different. So no, he’s not exactly an expert when it comes to feelings - but with Cas… he just knows. Knows that this is it, he’s gone, lost.


	12. Chapter 12

Cas keeps his words to himself, the repetition of ‘I love you’ over and over in his head not getting old as he punctuates each phrase with a kiss to Dean’s neck, shoulder, ear. He waits a few minutes, and then pulls out of the boy, crawling to lay beside him and wrap one arm lazily around Dean’s middle. He pulls until they’re snug against one another, and just breathes, letting his chest stop heaving as he takes in the warm familiar scent of sex and Dean.  
A few long moments pass before Cas speaks up, clearing his throat, but his voice remains gravelly from his panting and gasping.  
“So…dinner?”  
He presses a kiss to Dean’s shoulder and trails a hand along the taut lines of his stomach, enjoying the slide-bump over the muscles he’d found there. Dean was his in these moments, these moments of sex sated leisure. And if that was all Castiel got to have, this and their friendship, the mentorship that was evolving and revolving on a daily basis through their talks and their notebook- then that was okay. That was okay with Cas, even though some part of him spoke up inside and sing-songed ‘you’re lying’ at him. He could beg himself to believe it was okay, and that even if Dean never loved him, as long as he got to hold the boy, he would enjoy every second of it for as long as Dean let it last.  
*  
Dean feels tired, satisfied and lazy. He moves onto his side and snuggles closer, hiding his face in the crook of Cas’ neck and breathing out slowly.  
“mm not hungry”, he mumbles, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to the warm patch of skin beneath his lips “..later….?”  
He knows he’s not making much sense but the words he wants to say, the ‘I don’t want you to go’ and the ‘stay here with me’ won’t come over his lips. He prays that Cas gets it somehow, that he senses that right now there’s no place Dean would rather be than here, in Castiel’s arms, head so close to his chest that he can listen to his heartbeat.  
*  
Castiel chuckles deep in his throat and then presses a kiss to Dean’s cheek.  
“Okay… let me get rid of this… and I’ll be back…”  
He slips out of Dean’s grasp, mind blanking slightly at how the boy’s hands trail along his skin, almost as if he’s unwilling to let Cas go in that moment, but he has to. It only takes a few seconds for Cas to tie off the condom and throw it in the trash, and grab a few tissues to clean himself and Dean up with.  
Cas climbs back onto the bed and wipes them both down with care, kissing Dean’s inner thigh as he finishes cleaning the boy up. He tosses those as well, and then is back in the bed, almost instantly surrounded by warm tanned skin as Dean burrows himself back into the place he’d just been moments before, hiding his head in the crook of Cas’ neck, his arms tight around the older man’s waist.  
Cas hums contently and shuts his eyes, one hand sliding lazily up and down Dean’s back, trailing over the sheen of sweat there and chuckling as ripples of shivers run through Dean. Dean smacks him on the arm lightly, muttering ‘ass’, before grabbing blankets and tossing them over the pair of them.  
Cas smiles and tugs Dean even closer, pressing a lingering kiss to Dean’s head, his own eyes shutting once more as they settle down into the mattress, sinking through any possible awkwardness after the intensity of their sex, and right into the comfortable belonging feeling of being in someone else’s arms.  
*  
Sleep takes over quickly and Dean is grateful for its mercy, for not having to think about how substantial, how life-changing the realization of his feelings for Cas really is. He nestles against the other man and feels himself drowning, eyes shutting and a small sigh falling off his lips, as he drifts away, the other man’s name the last thing he mumbles before everything goes black.  
He wakes from the sound of birdsong and soft rays of light, filtering through the curtains of his bedroom. Cas is still there, Dean can hear him breathing, can feel his chest heaving and his lips curl into a smile. Castiel is the first thing Dean sees this morning and as he feels warmth spreading in his whole body, he realizes that he wants this more often, wants this always, every morning of every day. He presses closer, studying the other man’s sleeping form, his flat stomach, the leanly muscled chest, the small freckle just above his right nipple. The smile widens and Dean untangles himself carefully from Cas’ embrace, moving down to kiss the small mark, softly, almost chaste, chuckling lowly at how Cas, while still asleep, responds to the caresses, how he squirms underneath him, face showing just exactly how he enjoyed Dean’s touch.  
*  
Castiel wakes up to a rather annoying growl from his stomach, and he mutters something about ‘shut up’, before burying his face deep into the crook of Dean’s neck. He slowly opens his eyes though, after registering the scent of his lover, still surrounding him like it had last night. Cas can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes his lips, and he pulls back to blink at Dean, bleary eyed.  
“Morning”, Cas rasps, his voice thick with sleep.  
Dean smiles and repeats the greeting back to him, then nuzzles in to Cas’ chest, wrapping his strong arms around the lean pale torso. Cas laughs again and kisses the top of Dean’s head, murmuring soft words there.  
“Enjoyed last night….mmm….”  
They quiet for a moment, both men just taking in the other’s presence; both of them thinking the words neither of them dares to say, for fear of ruining not only this moment, but any that would come afterward. Cas’ heart sung with it, so when he asks “Can I make you breakfast?”, the underlying tone of voice and the way he stares into Dean’s eyes says ‘Can I love you? Will you let me?’  
*  
Dean tilts his head to the side, cheek pressed flush to Castiel’s chest, as he looks up at him, smiling.  
“Yes please”, he says and for a moment both of them just look at each other, marveling at the beauty right in front of them.  
Dean pulls back and sits up then, slipping out from underneath the covers and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He walks over to the door, stopping for a second to turn his head around, winking and smiling back at Cas, mouthing “shower first?”, before leaving the room. He’s tripping over to the bathroom to get clean shorts out of the drier and when he stands back up from where he had bent down, he feels Cas’ arms around him. He smiles to himself, turning around in the loose embrace of the older man and reaching up to fondle his dark, messy hair.  
*  
Cas pulls Dean snug against him and hums contently while Dean plays with his hair. His voice is still rough with sleep when he speaks, scratchy and raw.  
“You’re a little too gorgeous for having just woken up, Dean.”  
He kisses lazily along Dean’s neck, making a soft ‘mmm’ sound as he slumps slightly against the boy’s body. A shower sounded fantastic, and so did pancakes… maybe a long run later on, if Dean was up for it. Cas had gotten back into running almost every morning before work, and it was really helping him feel centered and together all day long. Of course, this week he hadn’t had the energy, too upset and focused on Dean not speaking to him, and being distraught at how much the boy’s words had wounded him.  
Luckily they had made up and it had been, as usual, beyond any words of description. Though if Castiel had to choose one phrase, it would be ‘as close to perfection as possible’. The only thing that could have made it better, he thinks, while staring at a constellation of sweet freckles on Dean’s shoulder, would have been if he had the courage to confess his love for the boy verbally, instead of hiding it in the way he touched and held him.  
*  
“Oh shuddup”, Dean chuckles at Castiel’s words, sliding his hands down over his cheeks and jaw, to rest them on his chest.  
He stretches his neck a little more, giving Cas even more skin to touch and kiss and sighs softly at the gingerly press of lips. Cas doesn’t speak for a while and when Dean looks down at him, his eyes are blankly staring at his torso and Dean, biting his lower lip nervously, reaches down one hand to tilt the older man’s head up.  
“What’s the matter?”, he asks, worry obvious in his voice and the deep frown on his face.  
He entangles himself from the loose embrace, sinking down on his knees and pulling Cas with him. Dean’s hands come up to cup his face once more, thumb gently stroking over his cheeks, as he tries to find the reason for Cas’ melancholic look.  
*  
Cas stills for a moment, then leans forward and gently presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead.  
“Nothing Dean, it’s nothing.”  
The look flickers and disappears from his face as he smiles and scruffles Dean’s hair, before standing back up and pulling Dean with him.  
He turns on the shower and sets it to the warmest setting before it starts to hurt your skin, and then climbs inside. Castiel hisses slightly at the feeling, then makes a soft, happy moan. It does feel good, Dean was right. He needs the hot water pouring down and beating his sore muscles lose again. While sleeping with Dean was beyond wonderful, it did lend to sleeping in odd positions. Cas was going to have to try to figure out how to sleep with Dean in a way that made them both comfortable, and not achy in the morning.  
*  
After another moment, while Dean is trying to figure out if Cas is telling the truth or just hiding worries or guilt or something else, he follows him, stepping inside of the shower. It’s different that morning, just like the sex they’d had the night before. They touch each other, bring each other pleasure and ease but it’s not hurried or driven by passion and lust. Dean sinks to the ground, back leaning against the cold tile wall, after Cas pulls back his hand, washing the thick, white fluid off his slender digits. He stays there, breathing hard, as Cas joins him on the shower floor, arms reaching around his body to steady him.  
Sam calls later, letting Dean know that he’ll be back around noon, so they spend the rest of their time together in quiet. Cas had brought the sketchpad with him, so while he’s sitting on the couch, flipping through the pages of what they had drawn and written so far, Dean’s head rests in his lap, as he watches his lover with a small smile.  
*  
Cas spends the time before Sam comes home doodling in the sketch. Mostly loose drawings of things around the living room, but after a while Dean drifts off in his lap, and then Cas takes to drawing one of the things he’s come to love drawing best- Dean.  
He sketches Dean’s freckles, mapping them out on his face like the earliest astronomers did with the night sky, taking each one in and placing it on the sketch of Dean’s face with delicate precision. Cas moves on to Dean’s lips, and then the boy’s nose and ears, the slight frown of his brow as he dreams.  
Cas only stops his sketches when Sam comes home, and looks up from his subject with a soft smile.  
“Afternoon, Sam…”  
He smiles at the boy, who pauses, then grins back.  
“Hey Castiel…Uh, Cas?”  
“..Whichever you prefer, Sam.”  
Sam nods and walks into the kitchen, where there was still left over frittata from that morning, and shoots Cas a thankful grin around the corner before heating some up for himself. Cas carefully scoots out from underneath Dean’s head, leaving the sketchbook open on the arm of the couch and joining Sam at the kitchen table, where the boy was eating and going over his homework.  
Sam and Cas spend the next hour or so talking quietly, Cas giving Sam helpful tips about persuasive arguments, footnotes and the different writing styles college professors would want you to use. By the time Dean wakes up, Cas and Sam are geeking out over Ancient Greek mythology, arguing over their favorite tale and god.  
*  
Getting up from the couch after at least three hours of sleep, Dean feels tired and limp, as he trudges over to the kitchen.  
“Sam..you’re back?”, he mumbles, wiping a hand over his eyes sleepily “Geez… how long was I out?”  
He doesn’t wait for either of them to reply, stepping over to the coffee maker and pouring himself one cup. Padding back to where Cas and Sam are sitting, Dean braces himself on the back of Cas’ chair, pressing his lips against the top of his head. He downs the rest of his coffee, before sitting down on the armrest of Cas’ chair.  
“What’re you guys talking about?”  
*  
Sam proceeds to gush about Castiel’s intelligence and geek status, how he knows all the things Sam knows, and they share a love of art and science fiction, mythology and ancient history. Cas blushes and laughs as Sam basically fangirls, finishing off with a pointed finger at Dean’s face.  
“Don’t fuck this up Dean! I like him!”  
Cas bites his lip and looks up at Dean, smirking slightly at how the little brother just commanded the older brother is such a parental tone of voice. Dean, of course, glares at Sam, muttering ‘Bitch’ under his breath, which Sam just rolls his eyes at.  
Sam gathers his books and says bye to Cas before leaving the room and walking back into his bedroom, once more giving the two some space.  
“Well….”, Cas says, clearing his throat and looking up at Dean.  
“I guess I have the ‘Sam Stamp of Approval’, then.”  
He smiles just a little awkwardly.  
*  
Dean’s pouting a bit, as Sam leaves the room, winking back at him before he shuts the door. Of course he had to make this even harder, even more awkward for him. Dean likes where they are now, he likes how him and Cas interact, how they get along. He just likes what they have and even though he now admits - to himself at least - that he’s falling for the goddamn teacher, he finds the risk of confessing his feelings and risking Cas to run off is not worth it. So he looks down at Cas, who seems uncertain and somewhat scared and Dean smiles, raising a hand to cup his cheek.  
“I guess so”, he says quietly, pressing a kiss into his hair once more before standing up and putting his empty coffee mug into the sink.  
“But I think what’s more important is.. you got the ‘Dean Stamp of Approval’ as well, teach.”  
He goes back into the living room, fetching the sketchpad and taking it to his bedroom, Cas following him on tiptoes. He packs his bag, Dean sitting on the foot of the bed, watching him silently. There’s another moment, when Cas steps over and in between Dean’s knees, bending down a bit, Dean’s face resting gently in his strong hands, when Dean can feel the tension in the room rising and his lips drop to Castiel’s lips automatically. They’re already just a hair’s breadth apart, when Dean clears his throat and turns his head to press his lips against Cas’ palm.  
“See you Monday, teach”, he breathes, smiling apologetically up at him.  
*  
Once again, that line that they tread so carefully isn’t crossed, and the disappointment is almost impossible to keep off of Castiel’s face. He smiles hesitantly and nods, leaning in to press his lips to Dean’s forehead, hand around the back of his neck.  
“See you Monday, Dean.”  
Castiel goes home then, and spends the rest of his weekend catching up on some neglected classwork; he grades papers and reads through journals, and sets up his lesson plan for the next few weeks. It’s getting close to Christmas, and Christmas break, the weather cool and windy, with rain every other day now. Cas sits on his bed, wondering if it would be appropriate to get Dean a present for Christmas…or if it would make him feel awkward.  
After 20 minutes of thinking about it, he finally smiles to himself, and decides that he doesn’t really care about appropriateness, and spends an hour lying in bed before falling asleep thinking about what Dean Winchester would want for a Christmas present.  
*  
On Monday morning Dean is the first at school, walking down the empty hallways to the arts classroom. Cas isn’t there yet, so Dean sits down at his desk, opening the sketchpad and studying his latest work. He had seen Castiel’s sketches of himself, how carefully he had mapped Dean’s face and all its details and the thought of the older man watching him in his sleep had made him all warm and fuzzy. He had stared down at the drawings until he felt he couldn’t take it any longer and then flipped some pages backwards, looking at their work so far. He finds the page where Cas had erased parts of black pencil scribble in the shape of a hand, reaching out for Dean to take it and Dean finds himself blushing once more at the importance of that shared picture. He flips back to an empty, blank page, fumbling for a pencil in his schoolbag and starts drawing.  
When he puts down the pen twenty minutes later, he’s pretty content with his work. The corners of the page are slightly darker, leaving the middle of it brightly white and making it almost shine. In the center of the egg-shaped white space, there’s a pair of hands, palms facing and fingers intertwined and the image makes Dean’s heart race. He hates to admit defeat or having been mistaken. But slowly but surely Cas makes him see, makes him realize that there’s more about Dean Winchester than cockiness and arrogant attitude and meaningless sex. And even though Dean wasn’t ready yet to admit his feelings, he finds that Cas deserves this… that he deserves to know just how much his words and actions affect him, how they make him see what Dean never would’ve been able to discover on his own.  
He hears footsteps on the linoleum and quickly shuts the sketchpad, getting up to lean against the desk, just as Cas enters the room, small smile on his face and an eyebrow cocked at Dean, breaking in his locked classroom once more. Neither of them says a word, as Cas crosses the distance between them, putting down his bag next to his desk and sitting down, pulling the sketchpad over and only looking back up at Dean, when the boy touches his hand and shakes his head gently.  
“Not now, Cas”, he says quietly, feeling a blush spreading on his cheeks and bites his lip nervously “Uhm… I guess we’re not meeting at lunchbreak anytime soon?”  
He sighs at the grim agreement on Cas’ face and pats his hand for a few seconds, before shrugging and pushing himself off the desk.  
“So..do you wanna… I dunno… stop by after work? I wanted to take Sammy out for pizza, so…..”  
*  
Cas pushes the notebook aside and smiles up at Dean, a gentle closed lipped smile that reaches his eyes, making them dance.  
“I’d like that…”  
He reaches out and tugs on Dean’s shirt, pulling the boy closer to him.  
“I was thinking….what are you doing for New Year’s?…The zoo normally puts on a benefit…an art show, and…I’ve been invited to display some work. They also let me have four tickets to the event. I was thinking, maybe you and Sam and Gabriel and I could all go? It’s a day time event, and it’s during Winter Break…so school shouldn’t be a problem for you or Sam…”  
He looks nervous as he says this, but also hopeful, eyes darting from Dean’s down to where he’s holding onto the bit of the boy’s shirt, near his jeans.   
*  
When Cas starts speaking, Dean stiffens noticeable. He listens to his suggestion, his invitation silently, lips pressed together, soft frown on his face. His first incentive is to say ‘yes’ - but then there’s a shitload of questions and doubts pushing down on him, like ‘What does Cas expect me to do?’ and ‘What if anyone from school sees us?’ Instead he blushes dark red and stutters out: “A-and what am I supposed to wear?”  
Cas’ chuckles at that and Dean doesn’t particularly feel better, nudging his side gently before speaking again, saying the exact opposite of what he secretly thinks: “Uhm..I mean… I don’t see a reason why we shouldn’t go……”  
*  
Cas arches a brow at that and licks his lips.  
“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, Dean…”  
He frowns slightly and lets go of Dean’s shirt, the warmth from his hand disappearing as it drops away into his lap.  
“I thought you’d like the art show…and Sam would like the zoo…and Gabriel’s constantly bugging me to see Sam again- yeah, yeah, I know, he’s a leech, but he’s my leech, so I have to be nice to him now and then…I just…”  
Cas leans away from Dean, sitting straight with his back pressed into the chair, eyes looking up at Dean, his face impassive now, stony.  
“I thought you’d like it….”  
Cas doesn’t say the most important reason for inviting Dean, the one that constantly hung in the back of his mind now, ‘anything to see you more, anything to spend more time with you’.  
*  
Great… now this was exactly the opposite of what Dean had wanted. He instantly misses the tugging on his shirt, as Cas’ hand retreats and quickly he takes a step forward, his hand touching the soft fabric of Cas’ shirt lightly, coming to rest on his shoulder.  
“You gotta work on your listening skills, teach”, he says and squeezes Cas’ shoulder gently “I said I’ll come. Now cheer up and tell me what to wear, will ya?”  
Dean lets go of him then, walks over to lock the door and press the button to close the blinds, before returning to where Cas was still sitting. He uses both hands to pull the chair back a bit, grins at his lover and then sits down on Cas’ lap, legs dangling on either side of the older man’s body. It’s been one and a half days since they last had slept together - cause really, what they had been doing had been so much more than just fucking - and Dean feels empty and dried up. But he knows they can’t risk doing it in school anymore, knows that even this position would be more than obvious if anyone saw them through the blinds. Still he can’t resist rolling his hips, pressing their crotches together, as he looks down into Cas’ face with half-lidded, moss green-eyes.  
*  
Castiel feels the inhale of breath hitch in his throat, and the exhale stutters just as bad when Dean rotates his talented hips just right. Cas murmurs softly, something about ‘Anything, you’ll look great in anything…’, before pulling Dean down to latch onto the boy’s neck.  
This is impossible, he just couldn’t get enough of Dean, no matter how often they saw one another, how deeply he buried himself inside the boy, or how much he felt, it was never enough. Cas finds himself wanting more, and it’s a dangerous, scary feeling to want so badly. But just as much as he wants, he can’t stop wanting either. Dean is his drug, and the addiction weaves deep inside him, passionate and full of fire, and he never wants to let it blink out.  
He can feel himself harden, and groans, knowing that class was going to start in less than half an hour. Damn him, damn him for doing this, making it so hard to focus, to breathe whenever he was near.  
“Dammit Dean…”, Cas breathes, once he’s pulled away again, and managed to shove Dean off his lap.  
“…Christ…the things you do to me…”  
Castiel’s cheeks are red with arousal, his breath coming fast and the tenting in his slacks obvious.  
*  
Dean is not pleased about Cas pushing him away so roughly but he’s far from giving up yet. Wetting his lips, he takes a step back towards Cas, sinking on his knees in front of the chair and pushing his legs apart determinedly.  
“Oh come on, you can’t sit through an entire lesson like this, Cas”, he teases, his face so close to his teacher’s groin that he must feel the hot breath through the thin layers “And you know you don’t want to either…..”  
He waits a moment though but when Cas doesn’t do much more than wail weakly, Dean’s hands come up to undo the button and fly of his pants, pulling his half hard cock out of the black shorts. Dean licks his lips once, eyes looking up at Cas for a moment, mischief and triumph in his eyes, before the tip of his tongue grazes over Castiel’s head. Dean enjoys the quiet, suppressed moan but he wants more and so his mouth closes around the tip of Cas’ cock, sucking softly, while his tongue is teasing the slit, licking precome from it hungrily.  
*  
Cas rapidly hardens in Dean’s mouth, one of his hands coming up to caress the back of the boy’s head. His breathing is ragged, hips thrusting up toward Dean’s mouth minutely, the smallest twitch.  
“F…fuck…”  
He groans and his head drops back, thunking dully on the back of his chair, but Cas can’t bring himself to care when Dean is bobbing his head like that, taking him deeper and deeper. Castiel bites his lower lip, grinding his hips up in a slow rhythm, and shuts his eyes with a soft gasp.  
“Dean…”  
His name slips from Cas’ lips softly, barely reaching Dean’s own ears, and Castiel’s stomach clenches, getting close remarkably fast. Maybe it’s the rush of adrenaline of doing this here, after almost being caught the last time, or maybe it’s just how talented Dean’s mouth was, his tongue and lips working Cas over with such a fervor that Cas could only whimper under Dean’s ministrations.  
*  
It’s almost adorable how fast Cas had subdued, surrendered to Dean’s talented mouth and tongue and Dean smiles at how easy it had been to seduce him. He closes his eyes and slides his mouth over Cas’ complete length, deep throating him and swallowing, feeling the thick piece of flesh pulsing inside of his mouth. Cas is close and so is Dean, the tension filling the air around them making everything even more exciting, more arousing for both of them. Dean pulls his mouth off then, only his tongue remaining to lap at the throbbing erection and Cas’ soft cry of shock and disagreement is almost enough to make Dean come. He closes his mouth around the tip again and sucks hard, pulls off again to blow hot air over the wet surface, right before he swallows him down again wholly. When Cas comes, he can barely hold himself back from thrusting into Dean’s mouth and Dean takes it, takes everything he can get, sucking him through his orgasm with quiet, mewling sounds. He’s painfully hard, so once the hardest waves of pleasure had subsided, Dean reaches down one hand to palm himself through his jeans. They’re painfully tight, cause he knows Cas loves the sight, but right now Dean hates the piece of clothing with all of his might.  
*  
Cas pulls Dean up from the floor the moment he can breathe again, and quickly unbuttons his jeans and shoves them and his underwear away, before shoving Dean back onto his desk. Cas kneels in front of him and slicks one of his fingers in his mouth before quickly taking Dean’s erection into his mouth.  
Cas works efficiently, his mouth sliding slowly over Dean’s heated flesh, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other sliding down between them to press inside the boy, rough and barely wet enough.  
Cas looks up through dark lashes as he starts thrusting that finger deep into Dean’s body, crooking it to drag it back out. His mouth bobs around the tip of Dean’s cock, swirling his tongue around the bottom and sliding his hand in time with his lips, sucking around the length when he can. He knows that he would have to work quickly, but Dean’s also so close it wouldn’t take long, so Cas just hangs in there, working up a frenzy as he jacks Dean and fucks him with his finger.  
*  
Dean has barely time to realize what’s happening so it’s hardly surprising that he can’t cover his mouth in time to stop a high-pitched moan escaping his throat. He bites down on the index finger of his left hand, as soon as he gets it over his mouth, the fingers of his right digging into the fabric of Cas’ shirt, taking hold of his shoulder as his fingers and mouth are doing unimaginable things to him. It’s driving him insane, the roughness and immediacy of it and he can’t do much more than lying there, taking whatever Cas is giving him. When he comes, his torso rears up, his body writhing and shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. His arms are still shaking, when they pull Cas up and into a lazy embrace, eyes fluttering open reluctantly. There’s a droplet of come on Castiel’s lips and for a moment Dean forgets about their silent agreement, for this one moment of dazed afterglow all Dean wants to do is lean up to kiss it away… He remembers far too soon, still not able to avert his eyes, so eventually he raises his hand, thumb brushing over his lover’s lips, before lowering it to his own mouth, tasting himself and closing his eyes exhaustedly.  
“mmh…..”, Dean hums, lips curling into a genuinely sated smile, as he opens his eyes again “..love it when you’re like that, Cas…”  
*  
Cas licks his lips, the lower one still tingling from where Dean had brushed the pad of his thumb over it. His blue eyes widen as they take in how sleepy Dean was now, while he wanted nothing more than to go again, take Dean over his desk and say fuck the world.  
“Hey, no sleeping now… not in my class anyway.”  
He chuckles and leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Dean’s forehead.  
“Wake up, I have to go open the doors and blinds…and,” Cas reaches down to trail his fingers over the bared flesh of Dean’s low belly.  
“I doubt we could get away with this if you’re half naked, Dean…”  
*  
Dean lets out a disapproving groan and finally manages to keep his eyes open. He slides off the desk, still a little wobbly on his feet and takes the tissues, Cas is offering him to clean himself up, before pulling up his pants again. He wipes a hand over his mouth, knowing he must look completely fucked through and that he couldn’t leave the room like that. He stumbles over to the sink and throws some water in his face, before making his way back to pick up his bag next to Cas’ desk. Standing right in front of his lover, he reaches a hand up to smoothen some wrinkles in his shirt, close-lipped smile on his face, as he eventually looks up into Cas’ eyes.  
“Thanks, teach… I think I can actually wait until tonight now.”  
He grabs his bags, walking over to the door, the clock above it showing it’s almost time for the first period. Dean turns around again, as he unlocks the door, smiling at Cas.  
“7pm, our place - get ready for the best pizza you’ve ever had!”


	13. Chapter 13

Cas smiles after Dean, watching as the boy leaves the classroom, and Cas’ side for the day. He sighs gently once Dean is out of sight, frowning just a little bit. It was hard, not getting to see Dean much during the school day. It was even worse these days because Joanna Harvelle kept shooting him looks that said she knew something was up, but couldn’t figure out quite what it was.  
The day goes fast though, thankfully, and by 2pm Cas is done with his work and ready to go home. He goes for a run then showers and grades some papers before taking the BART train to Gabriel’s place to hang out for a bit.  
“So, you want to go to the Zoo gala on New Year’s?”  
“..What? On New Years? I was planning on going to New York with some friends-“  
“Sam’ll be there.”  
“…I’m in.”  
*  
Sam isn’t as excited over pizza night as he usually is and even though Dean has an idea about the reason for that, he hesitates a full hour before suggesting to invite Gabriel along. So when a red sports car pulls up in front of the apartment building at 6.54 pm, Sam is out and in the elevator even before Dean can put on his shoes. Sam seems so genuinely happy to see Gabriel, though, that Dean can’t really be worried or mad. He catches Cas’ gaze and even smiles back at him. For Sam’s sake he would try to trust Cas’ word and Gabriel’s self-control.  
“Come on, Cas, we’ll take my car”, he says and drags him over to where the Impala is parked, leaving Sam to hop in with Gabe.  
Dinner goes pretty smooth, as Dean is soon realizing that he really has nothing to worry about. Gabriel is a decent guy and he and Sam both seem aware of the huge-ass age difference. So after only half an hour, Dean is chatting with Cas, teasing him about not being able to cut the ridiculously thick cheese on his pizza and leaning over to help him out, accompanied by the laughter of both Gabe and Sam. Once he’s sated, he leans back in the booth, watching Cas and Gabe squabbling with one another and smiling to himself, as he realizes how much he enjoys this. He never had expected something like this, never even thought about having some sort of domestic love life… He knows this isn’t what he deserves - and still he finds himself craving it, wanting it more than anything else.  
*  
Cas could tell that Gabriel was falling for Sam, and on the way over to the apartment after Dean had invited Gabriel to come as well, his brother had confessed something to Cas. Sam and Gabriel had been texting each other, and talking almost nightly on the phone. Cas’ eyes went saucer wide, but Gabriel was quick to defend himself, telling Cas that it wasn’t sexual, that he and Sam both knew that if they went there, it would mean huge trouble for Gabriel, both in the form of the law, and Dean Winchester’s brotherly anger.  
And Sam didn’t want that for Gabriel, and when Gabriel said that his face had softened, taking on a look that Cas had never seen on his brother’s face before.  
“…Okay then Gabe….just, be careful.”  
“We are…”, Gabriel had said, and that was the end of that.  
The four of them ate and talked, giggled and chatted about everything that was going on in their lives. Cas explained that the zoo had asked him to submit pieces for their gala, and that all the profits would go toward a new enclosure for the Tigers. Gabriel was actually excited about the prospect of going to a fancy thing like that, and offered to get everyone tuxes from his friend’s shop for free.  
“As long as we tell everyone who asks where we got them from, it won’t be an issue.”  
He waves off Dean’s protests with a roll of his eyes and a “Dean-o, really, calm down, it’s just a tux.”  
Cas smiles and takes Dean’s hand in his, kissing the back of his knuckles and looking into Dean’s eyes with a soft smile.  
“It’ll be fun… I promise.”  
Gabriel stills at that, looking at Sam out of the corner of his eye, where the boy is sitting picking at his pizza in silence. Gabriel frowns slightly and looks down at his own food, a wave of sadness coming over him that he can’t hold Sam’s hand like he wants to. Neither Dean nor Cas notice, both too caught up in their own little world.  
On the way back to the apartment though, at a stop light, Gabriel takes his hand off the steering wheel and sets it palm up on the center console. Sam stares at the open invitation for a moment, then smiles and puts his hand in Gabriel’s. They ride in companionable silence, and say goodnight with a hug at Dean and Sam’s apartment.  
Gabriel takes off, waving out the window of his car, leaving the trio behind. For the first time that week there’s a smile on Sam’s face as he rides the elevator back upstairs, and when they get back into the apartment he turns on some music in his room rather loud, giving Cas and Dean a lewd grin as he shuts the door.  
Cas flushes slightly and stares at the door for a moment, before turning to look at Dean.  
“Thank you…for inviting Gabriel too. I know you didn’t have to, and…I think they enjoy one another’s company.”  
He tilts his head to one side and brushes a thumb over Dean’s cheekbone.  
“I don’t have to go home for a few more hours, Dean…”  
*  
Dean rolls his eyes at the look Sam is giving them but is secretly grateful for how tactful and understanding he is. He knows Sam isn’t stupid… Sam had never seen him like this before, so it’s not that much of a stretch for him to realize that that thing between his brother and his teacher must be different, serious even. So even though they had been sleeping together for over a month now and just this morning they had sucked each other off, bent over a school desk, Dean feels awkward, nervous. He bites his lip coyly, looking back at Cas out of dark, green eyes. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t need to, as he pulls Cas with him, shoves him inside of his room and on his bed, crawling over him like a predator. He’s glad Sam’s turned up the volume, cause there’s no way in hell, Dean would’ve been able to hold back the moans and cries of pleasure, that he’d had to keep inside that morning. When Cas leaves just a little before midnight, Dean’s body is limp, sweaty and sore but he feels better than ever.  
The next few weeks pass without any incidences. There’s no drama, no big problems and Dean is actually grateful for that. Two weeks after their pizza night Sam is on a weekend trip with some friends and Cas takes Dean out for dinner. And when they sit down at the table for two in some fancy restaurant at the edge of the city, Dean realizes that it’s their first date. He almost freaks at that notion but then Cas’ hand is on his, squeezing gently and the smile on his lover’s face makes his heart skip a beat. He lets Cas bring him home that night, lets him spread his body out on the couch, mapping every inch of his skin with his lips and tongue. Dean loses count of how many times he’s reaching climax that night and the last thing he thinks before he falls asleep in Castiel’s arms is, how fucking perfect he is…  
*  
Their notebook becomes a way to share things they see in their lives, dreams and ideas for the future, possible dates or things that irked them. Another week passes, and Christmas is just around the corner, and school ends for two weeks for Winter Break. Dean and Cas spend almost every day in bed, and they end up having to buy condoms in bulk just to keep up.  
Castiel is surprised when Dean actually wants him to come over Christmas evening for dinner, and had been planning on spending it with Gabriel at his apartment.  
They combine their efforts and end up with twice as much food as they had before: 6 different kinds of pie, two turkeys, a honey baked ham, two kinds of stuffing, three kinds of salads and sides, and four dozen rolls in wheat and white bread both. Gabriel and Sam try to instigate a food fight, but luckily Cas and Dean manage to stop them with threats of not letting either of them open their presents.  
The rest of the night is spent in mild food comas, the four of them crashing on the couch to watch ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’. Castiel buys Dean a set of acrylic paints and an easel for Christmas, and Sam an encyclopedia set on CDs, which he can take wherever he goes. Gabriel brings a rather tasty malt liquor for everyone to share that tastes like apple pie, and is just a little surprised when Dean actually hugs him over it.  
In a moment of privacy when Cas and Dean are talking about the merits of acrylics versus oil paints, Gabriel hands Sam a calendar. Sam frowns at it, flipping through the pages of the rather thick calendar, only to realize that it counts out four years. He looks up at Gabriel, who flushes bright red before taking the calendar from him and flipping to a page four years in the future. There, marked with a rather large 18! in red marker, is Sam’s 18th Birthday. Gabriel flips back to where they are now, December 25th, this year, and takes a marker out of his pocket. He hands it to Sam with a hesitant smile, which broadens when Sam all but snatches the marker from him and crosses today’s date off with a grin. They share a long look before Dean clears his throat and arches a brow at Gabriel, who just gives him a sheepish grin. Sam kisses Gabriel’s cheek softly, then scoots off to his room to hang the best Christmas present he’d ever received on his wall.  
Cas spends the rest of the night with his arms wrapped around Dean’s form, curled up on the couch, while Gabriel and Sam play chess and checkers on the floor, using the new set that Dean had bought Sam.  
*  
People say that time flies when you’re happy, so when the end of December is closing in and Sam urges him to invite Cas (and Gabriel) over for Christmas, Dean is hesistant at first. He’d been so busy just being with Cas, spending every possible minute with him, that he completely forgot about the important holiday. The problem is: he’s never been very imaginative when it came to presents. It had gotten so bad that three years ago him and Sam had agreed to buy each other socks or boxers, nothing too fancy, the functionality more important than the creativity. That left Gabriel - cause he’d really gotten to like the son of a bitch - and of course Cas. Luckily, he soon finds something for Gabe - a miniature version of his sports car he could use as a keychain - but the search for something appropriate for Cas drives him nuts.  
One week before Christmas he’s still clueless and while Cas is slumbering in his arms after quite a few rounds of rolling around in bed, Dean is staring at the ceiling, thinking hard. Cas isn’t a rich man but from the things he told Cas about himself, Dean was pretty sure he had everything he needed in his apartment. And Dean doesn’t want to give him something useful, something practical anyway. Yet he thinks it shouldn’t be too meaningful. His feelings hadn’t been subsiding these past few weeks, instead they had become even stronger, Dean’s chest constricting whenever he saw the older man, the urge of saying ‘fuck you’ to the rules and just kiss him, let him devour his mouth and drink his sighs and moans, almost unbearable.  
So when December 23rd comes around, Dean is desperate and since it’s inacceptable to show up without a present, he goes and buys him a book he’d been talking about the past few days, some new part of a thriller series from an author Cas likes. It’s pathetic and Dean feels like a criminal, when he’s paying for it and leaving the bookstore. He refuses the cashier’s offer to wrap it as a present, instead buys some pieces of colored cardboard and goes straight home. He spends the rest of the day and almost all of the 24th with crafting the most personal and elaborate wrapping paper, he’s ever seen. He cuts and glues and paints, drawing small flourishes and leaves and birds all kinds of random motives on it. When it’s dried, Dean carefully wraps the book inside, using a leftover piece of the paper as a card. The words come surprisingly fluid, dripping on the bright blue cardboard right out of Dean’s soul. His words are chosen carefully, revealing fondness and appreciation, but each word means so much more and Dean isn’t sure if he wants Cas to notice or not.  
When he hands the present over on December 25th, while Sam and Gabe are busy playing chess, Dean can’t bring it over himself to watch Cas, doesn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes, although he feels like he deserves it. Before Cas can say something, Dean gets up to get his shoulder bag, rummaging around in it for a moment, before pulling out a slightly crinkled piece of paper and laying it into Cas’ lap. The headline read ‘Department of Health’ and below, in bold writing ‘HIV Test result’. Dean clears his throat, eyes scooting to where his brother and Gabe are sitting, oblivious to what’s going on just a few feet away, and back to Cas, who seems genuinely surprised.  
“It’s negative”, Dean simply says, feeling his cheeks blush.  
*  
Cas stares at the paper for a moment before flushing bright red and tucking it away, into his back pocket quickly, before Gabriel can see and ask nosily what it was. He looks up with wide blue eyes at Dean and smiles a soft smile, tilting his head to one side.  
“…Thank you, Dean….this means a lot…”  
He flushes again and looks down, licking his lips.  
“…I…uh…got tested last month. I’m clean too”, Cas whispers, and looks back up at Dean, a hint of mischief and arousal in his eyes.  
Cas grins then, mouths ‘later’, and then opens Dean’s present, being incredibly careful not to ruin the wrapping paper. He wants to save it, perhaps deconstruct it into a 2D piece so he could hang it on his wall, next to the other Dean original he had in his possession, the one he was sure Gabriel would steal if he ever saw it. The book is perfect, and Cas feels his heart clench a little bit, knowing that Dean had been listening and remembered when he’d talked about this author and this book. He leans over and kisses Dean’s cheek long and slow.  
“Thank you Dean”, Cas whispers, then goes to put the wrapping paper box down.  
He almost misses the card, as it matches the paper, but sees it just as he’s putting the box down beside the couch. Cas looks at the card then at Dean, and then back to the card. He opens it and reads it slowly, digesting each word.  
*  
Dean feels his cheeks heating up and when Cas finds the card, he quickly gets up, mumbling something about ‘getting a refill’ and disappearing into the kitchen. He gets a beer out of the fridge, downing half of it in one gulp and then leans back at the kitchen unit, quietly counting to 60, before he returns to the living-room slowly. Cas is still holding the card in his hands but Dean can’t quite see his face and thus isn’t able to interpret the look on his delicate features. He clears his throat awkwardly, standing behind the couch, hand clamping around a fistful of fabric, as he looks over Cas’ shoulder. He distantly notices Sam lying on his back, with Gabe sitting close, both of them smiling at each other and talking quietly and Dean feel a rush of affection for his brother, seeming so caught up into his and Gabe’s small world, that he doesn’t even pay attention to anything else going on.  
*  
Cas shuts the card and sets it aside with the wrapping paper, then stands up and takes Dean’s hand in his , tugging him back and into his bedroom. Once the door is shut Cas shoves Dean against the wall and holds his head in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. It’s so incredibly hard for Cas not to just blurt it out, to say the words he’d been thinking to himself for at least a month now, in his head over and over and over. But he can’t. No matter what Dean wrote, what the underlying words hidden beneath the lines were, Dean hadn’t said them out loud, and Cas couldn’t say them. He couldn’t risk scaring Dean away, when he knows how much the boy now means to him.  
Instead, he breathes out a soft sigh, whispers ‘I would give anything to kiss you right now’, and then wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders to pull him into a tight hug, so Dean wouldn’t have to flounder and try to make up an excuse as to why Castiel couldn’t kiss him. Cas wouldn’t force Dean to change, to remove rules or road blocks he’d put up to protect himself.  
It doesn’t mean that Cas isn’t going to peacefully protest the regime that was keeping Dean’s gorgeous lips from his own though, whenever he couldn’t take it anymore.  
“Thank you Dean..and…Merry Christmas..”, Cas says, voice muffled against Dean’s shoulder.  
*  
Cas’ voice is quiet, nothing more than a puff of air against his warm skin and yet Dean feels like he stabbed him, plunged a knife deep into his heart and twisted it. He tries to think of an excuse, of an explanation why, now that Cas had said it, now that Dean knows that he wants it, Dean still would refuse it to him. But he can’t think of anything. His hands trail up Castiel’s body, grazing his sides, his arms, until they come to rest around his neck. He pulls back a bit, just enough to be able to look Cas in the eye, his own glassy with fear and desire. He raises his own hand to his lips then, closing his eyes as he breathes a kiss to his fingertips, before reaching out to press them against Cas’ lips. He opens his eyes again, hoping, praying that they are able to say what Dean just can’t bring himself to admit. That he’s sorry, that he hates himself for denying both of them what they wanted, desperately needed - and that he loves him.  
“Merry Christmas, Cas.”  
*  
Dean and Cas spend another hour in his bedroom, just talking and touching, kissing each other on eyelids and temples and fingertips. It’s beautiful and soft and everything Christmas should be; a little bit of a miracle for both of them, that they got to have this. It’s after 1am by the time Cas realizes he should go home, and they make their way back out to the living room where Gabriel is curled up ont the couch with Sam lying against his chest, long gangly legs hanging over the edge of the couch, snoring gently into the slight puddle of drool he’d managed to leave on Gabriel’s shirt. For Gabriel’s part he’s asleep as well, arms clasped tight around the teenager on top of him.  
Cas pauses in the doorway and looks up at Dean, a soft half smile on his face.  
“…Seems a shame to wake them..”  
*  
Dean still has to adjust to the image of his baby brother with man almost 20 years older than him but he agrees that it’s an adorable sight. His hand finds Cas’ hip, pulling him flush against his side and resting his head on his shoulder, as he whispers back “Then let’s not…”  
He tiptoes over to the couch, pulling one of the fluffy, white blankets over their bodies, before heading to where Cas is still standing, taking his hand and pulling him back into his bedroom. He locks the door, fingers only leaving Cas’ body for a second, before they’re back, tugging at the hem of his sweater and pulling it over his head in a swift move. Tonight had been everything Dean had never known he wanted, every look, every soft touch of his lover engulfing him, embracing him with warmth and a happiness he hadn’t experienced before. Dean takes his time undressing Castiel, fingers mapping his body carefully, stroking each stretch of pale skin and smiling at the shivers running through the body of the man he was in love with. When they’re both naked, Dean gently nudges Cas backwards, until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he tumbles on it, pulling Dean with him. They lie on their sides, hands on each other, grazing over their bodies gingerly. Dean touches Castiel’s chest, just above where he can feel his heartbeat distinctly, while Cas’ fingers play with the soft, curly hair trailing down from Dean’s bellybutton to his half-hard cock.  
Cas kisses along Dean’s neck to his ear where he nibbles, slowly, gently sucking on the lobe.  
“Dean…I want to….”  
He flushes, not sure how to say it out loud, so he uses his body. Cas bites along his shoulder, his fingers trailing down past Dean’s cock to his entrance, playing over the pucker there, gently pressing against it with the pad of his finger. He moans, pressing his body closer, his own erection brushing over Dean’s hip.  
Cas had never had sex without protection… not even with Meg. He was safe, every time, fear of making one fatal mistake not worth the rush of skin on skin.  
But now, knowing Dean was clean, and he himself was as well… there’s no danger. And the only thing that could make this moment better would be to let Dean know just how much it meant to him that Dean had tested himself for him. Cas slides down the bed to kiss over Dean’s stomach, down to his cock, licking and sucking gently on the head. He pushes the boy’s legs up towards his chest and then brushes his face down further, tongue delving out to slide slick over Dean’s entrance, curling around it, then stiffening and pushing in. Cas groans, the idea of doing this something he’d thought about a few times, but never broached the topic with Dean before.  
*  
Things happen so fast and before Dean can even process what’s going on, he’s on his back, his legs pushed up agains his chest and then there’s the wet tip of Castiel’s tongue pressing iside of him. Dean gasps in surprise, hands quickly wrapping around his knees to steady them, afraid to hurt Cas as he feels his body spasming at the unexpected intrusion. It’s good though, better than good, as Dean knows that this is Cas’ first time. Dean feels a wave of pride, of gratefulness rushing through him. He is the one Castiel chose to experience this with. Dean is the one letting him cross every line, treading on unfamiliar ground and guiding him through all that is exciting and new. Dean’s eyelids flutter shut, when a low groan erupts from Castiel’s lips, humming and vibrating against the sensitive skin of Dean’s perineum.  
“…ghh-god… Cas…..”  
He doesn’t manage much more than that, voice breaking, breath hitching at the prolonged prodding of Castiel’s tongue, the sensations spinning over inside of him.  
*  
Cas continues like this, firm hands gripping Dean’s thighs, kneading the flesh while his tongue explores, sliding and curling inside of Dean, tasting him and being thrown by the molten heat of Dean’s insides. He fucks Dean with his tongue a few times before he can’t stand it anymore, needing so very badly to be inside the boy, his cock achingly hard, throbbing between his legs.  
“Need you Dean… need to be inside you”, Cas rasps, his voice rough with lust.  
He reaches for the lube on the bedside table and slicks two of his fingers and his cock at the same time, knowing this was going to be fast. He slides a finger into Dean quickly, thrusting hard as he takes Dean’s cock into his mouth and sucks, bobbing his head in unison with the intruding finger. A second is added while he swirls his tongue around the head, looking up with wide blue eyes at Dean’s face, needing to see how this was affecting him.  
*  
Dean’s whole body shudders at Cas words and his eyes go wide, as he feels his mouth around his cock, his fingers moving determinedly inside of him. It’s rough and fast and exactly what Dean wants right now, what he desperately needs, so he spreads his legs wider, his toes curling at the feelings rushing through his shaking body.  
“C-as..please can’t… can’t wait..”  
Dean’s hands find Castiel’s shoulders, fingers digging into the warm flesh and pulling him up, until their noses touch and their breaths mingle.  
“-waited… too long for this……”  
Dean licks his lips, his eyes filled with desire, with pure and utter devotion, one of his hands sliding down Castiel’s body to wrap around his cock, stroking it once, twice, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s. When he speaks again his voice is raw, hoarse with lust, nothing more than a whisper.  
“Fuck me, Cas..”  
*  
Cas steps off the bed and stands there for a moment, just staring at Dean with wide eyes, before he reaches out and drags Dean over with a grip right under each knee. He angles his cock just right and pushes forward, letting his upper body fall so he’s braced with locked arms high above Dean, staring down into his eyes. Cas’ breath catches as he feels, for the first time in his life, his cock sink down inside of someone without a condom. The skin to skin contact is absolutely blissful, the latex shield no longer in the way of the millions of tiny sensations he was missing. Cas chokes on a pleasured sob, hanging his head as his hips snap forward, unable to stop them from burying his cock deep inside Dean in a rushed move. He opens his eyes against and leans down, propping himself up on his forearms and cupping the side of Dean’s face with one hand.  
“D..Dean…are you okay?”  
Cas asks the question with a rough but quiet voice, barely above a whisper, but his hips won’t stop grinding into Dean, slow slow circles working his cock even deeper inside the boy with each push.  
*  
Dean knows this, knows what being filled completely feels like - and still… this is different. He’s had so many guys before Cas, so many rough fucks in some alley behind the clubs and bars of San Francisco, so many drunken one-night-stands, shoved against the walls of his room, each and every guys thrusting inside of him without mercy, without regard to what Dean wanted or needed.  
And now it’s Cas.  
Cas holding him gently. Cas cupping his face, thumb stroking over his heated cheek. Cas sinking inside of him slowly, steadily, his eyes on him, looking out for the faintest indication of pain, his lips forming reassuring words, speaking of affection, of caring.  
Dean throws his head back, feeling tears burn in the corners of his eyes, as his lips part in a silent cry of overwhelming pleasure. He’s breathing hard for a few seconds, hands holding onto Cas’ shoulders, curling around his neck desperately. When he tilts his head back up, eyes glassy as they search for Castiel’s worried, blue orbs, there’s a smile on Dean’s lips.  
“I’m… I’m okay”, he says, words falling from his lips without any hesitation “I’m okay…. Cas… so good….”  
*  
Castiel has to shut his eyes, hands clenching in the sheets beneath him to keep himself from kissing Dean, the urge is so intense. He can practically feel Dean’s lips on his, the tingling strong as he presses his lips together to bite back the growl of frustration he feels. Instead of giving in though, Cas just buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and starts up a smooth, quick pace, thrusting in and out of Dean with hard slaps of flesh of flesh. It’s wet, the sound almost filthy as he fucks into Dean harder and harder.  
“D…Dean….s…so good…”  
He shudders, stomach pressing down, grinding their bodies together against and around Dean’s cock. The friction is hot, burning in a delicious way as Cas moves faster and faster, grunting against Dean’s neck.  
“You…you’re so beautiful, Dean….so good…”  
Cas grips a handful of Dean’s hair and yanks back, exposing more of his neck so Cas can latch on, sucking a mark there.  
*  
Dean is speechless. There simply are no more words left to describe what’s going on inside of him. And even if there were, he would’ve been to busy gasping and moaning with each of Castiel’s quickly accelerating thrusts. He tries keeping his eyes open, wants to experience this, to witness everything. And it’s worth it. Castiel looks ravishing like this, eyes half-lidded and still bright blue and so goddamn beautiful that it takes his breath. His pale skin reflects the dim light from a street lamp outside, outlining his silhouette and making him glow almost divinely. Dean wraps his trembling legs around Castiel’s torso then, pulling him in even closer and groaning low at the indescribable sensations. Castiel grazes his prostate with almost every thrust now and it’s so much more, so much better than everything they’d done so far. Dean’s body spasms, fingers gripping the flesh of Cas’ shoulders even harder, his cock rubbing against Castiel’s stomach every now and then, leaking and twitching with anticipation.  
”..gh….. Cas… m-more…”, Dean all but begs, his voice almost pathetically thin and whining.  
*  
Cas sits up, standing, and grips Dean’s hips with both hands, tight. He pulls out, then slams back inside, harder and harder, each push in to the hilt. This position makes it easier for Cas to get in as deep as he can, his cock splitting Dean apart with each thrust.  
“FUCK…f..fuck Dean…so tight- a..ah god!”  
His hands would leave bruises tomorrow, but Cas is too far gone to care much in the moment, focusing only on how amazing it feels to be inside of Dean, to feel his silken heat clench like a vice around him. It’s insanely good, hot in a way that would melt glaciers, gripping him and sucking and Cas is sure he’s going to lose his mind.  
“N…Ngh….D..Dean…g…gonna come, ba-by…”  
Cas stutters, and pulls Dean’s legs up, throwing them over his shoulders so Dean’s feet were behind his head, and rails into him even harder, a strangled sob escaping his throat.  
“A…..Ah god, Dean!”  
*  
For a short moment in all the lust-clouded haze, Dean feels his lips curl into a smile. Cas had never been this vocal during sex, never had felt the impossible urge to voice his feelings quite like this. He’d never called him ‘baby’ as well and it’s something, Dean would have to think about later, something meaningful, something important. Right now though, Dean is too caught up in just being. He feels Cas everywhere. He’s inside, above, below and all around him and Dean had never before felt as safe as he does now. His nails scrape over Castiel’s back, the motion making the older man groan even deeper and Dean rolls his hips up, meeting Castiel’s thrusts eagerly.  
”..s-so close… c’mon Cas….. come for me… need you t-“  
Dean sucks in a deep breath, as Cas pushes back in even harder, causing Dean’s upper body to rear up, only to slump back down on the mattress hard. And then Cas hits his prostate again and Dean knows he never stood a chance lasting long, as his body’s jerking below Castiel, his semen painting their stomachs, as his cock is twitching frantically. Dean holds tight to Castiel, feeling his cock inside of him even more distinctly now, his whole body sensitive and sore.  
*  
The moment that Dean comes, Cas tumbles after him, right over the cliff into pleasure washed oblivion. He cries out and pushes deep into Dean, coming inside him, and for once Dean is able to actually feel it, the warmth as Cas pulses out his orgasm. He crumples over Dean, panting, gasping Dean’s name like a worn out record, stuck on the same lyric over and over. Cas shudders, a low soft moan coming from him as his muscles tick from use, and he knows he’s going to ache tomorrow from how hard he just fucked Dean.  
“…Dean..”, Cas whispers, and wraps his arms around the boy to hold him close, pressing slow, soft kisses along Dean’s neck, over and over.  
It felt so amazing, finally doing this, being inside Dean, buried deep without anything separating them now. He takes a deep breath, memorizing the scent of Dean, the sweat and sex and over all Dean smell that he had grown to love. Cas lets out a soft sigh, and keeps his nose pressed to Dean’s neck, settling over Dean for a moment, just breathing.  
*  
Dean still feels dizzy, light headed from the intensity of his orgasm, when Cas is jerking on top of him. He’s filling him with wet heat, making him gasp at a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time and only now realizes how much he had missed. He can feel Cas softening inside of him and as he slumps down on top of him, he feels his cock slipping out, leaving him empty but slick with lube and come. Dean squeezes his eyes shut, as he feels wetness dripping from his hole, a shudder going through his whole body. Cas slides off him, coming to a rest on his side, arms wrapped loosely around Dean and Dean moves to mirror his position. His body aches all over but it’s a good ache, pain resulting from utter pleasure and fulfillment. It’s hard at first but when he does manage to move his hand, he trails it down his own body, fingers finding the streaks of come still pouring out of him. He shudders again, eyes fluttering shut and forehead falling against Castiel’s shoulder, as he presses a finger inside of himself, just feeling for a moment, acknowledging that it really had happened.  
*  
Cas watches what Dean does, eyes widening in disbelief, jaw dropping just a little bit. It’s so…filthy, and lewd…and god that’s fucking hot. He licks his lips, shuddering slightly, before leaning in to kiss at Dean’s neck.  
“So…that was good then?”, Cas’ voice is teasing, a tiny bit cocky.  
He nips at the delicate skin there, then sucks another mark.  
“…Thank you, Dean. For trusting me with this…for doing this for me.”  
Cas presses a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead and sighs gently, his entire body relaxed as he lies beside Dean.  
*  
Dean chuckles lowly, licking his lips before rolling on top of Cas, pinning him down on the mattress. He leans down to brush his lips over his earlobe, nipping softly at the warm skin there and nuzzling at the short, dark hair just above his ears.  
“Don’t ask stupid questions”, he whispers and Cas too smiles.  
Dean lets himself sink down next to him again, arms sprawled over Castiel’s torso, his head resting on his chest. In this position he can hear his heartbeat, the evenly slowing down drumming, the blood rushing through his lover’s veins.  
His voice, when he speaks again, is quiet and calm and it might’ve been meant teasing but neither of them cares, so the soft “You’re welcome” sounds so much more like ‘Thank you’ and ‘I need you’ and ‘I love you’.  
*  
Cas murmurs softly against Dean’s forehead, sighing gently.  
“Let’s get cleaned up and sleep…okay?”  
He slowly stands up and then pulls Dean to his feet as well, smirking slightly at the grimace on Dean’s face.  
“You okay?”  
*  
Dean winces slightly, needing a moment to adjust but then nods back at Cas, mumbling ” ‘m fine.” Tapping over to the door he unlocks it and checks the hallway, before pulling Cas out and over to the bathroom with him. They have a quick shower, just a few gentle touches and kisses shared, and when they’re back inside Dean’s room and Cas had pulled the blanket over both of them, Dean is too tired to care about how closely he’s clinging to him. Somewhere on the verge of falling asleep, a string of words stumble over his lips, hanging in the air and making Cas’ lips curl into a soft smile.  
”..best Christmas ever…..”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, be forewarned, this chapter has major angst in it.

The next morning hugs are exchanged between everyone before Gabriel and Cas return home, with a promise that they’d all get together again for the New Year’s Charity Gala at the San Francisco Zoo. The next few days go quickly, with tux fittings and Cas focusing on finishing up a few pieces for the zoo, he and Dean don’t have much time together, only managing one real date a few days after Christmas.  
Dean drives the Impala by Cas’ instructions alone, having no idea where they’re going. They drive down Highway 1, through Daly City and Pacifica, up onto Devil’s Slide, where the scenery is gorgeous. They have the windows rolled down and the heater blasting, the combination of freezing winter air and hot humid air making for the perfect temperature in the car. Cas takes Dean’s hand as they coast down the slide in neutral, letting gravity take them down the winding road toward their destination, a cute little shack that serves the best clam chowder in a bread bowl on the West Coast.  
The ocean is choppy, but the sky is clear, strange for a Winter in the bay area. They get their food to go and eat leaning against the Impala’s hood, staring out at the cresting waves, the few brave surfers catching swells in wet suits, seagulls and people walking their dogs along the beach their only company.  
The sunset is gorgeous, as it always is in winter, flaming reds and oranges, fuchsias and golds lighting up the sky. Cas sits with his back to Dean’s chest, Dean’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, a blanket around them both as they watch the sky darken, minute by minute. The beach clears until they’re the only ones, sitting on the impala’s hood at the edge of the parking lot in the dark.  
As the sun sets, the stars come out, one by one, and Cas lays back on the hood with Dean on the blanket, Dean’s head on his chest. He points out each constellation, naming them by their popular names and the names they were given by astronomers so many years ago. He shows Dean Jupiter and Uranus, explaining that you can tell what is a star versus a planet by the fact that planets won’t twinkle, or flicker. Cas’ voice is soft as he goes over each constellation, from Orion, with his belt, and Cas’ own star in the center, down to Pisces, Taurus, Cepheus and Eridanus.  
He smiles then, and speaks soft against Dean’s forehead while pointing out another star, almost overhead.  
“If I was to pick a star for you, it would be that one… the Northern star… it’s called Polaris, and it’s the brightest star in Ursa Minor, or the Little Dipper…. Sailors used it to guide themselves home while on rough seas…”  
Cas doesn’t say it, but the meaning behind his words is obvious as he trails a hand through Dean’s hair. Dean may not ever be considered the brightest star in the night sky by others, but he’s the only one that Castiel could see, the only one he needs to guide him home.  
*  
Lying so close to each other, Dean can feel the steady heartbeat against his skin, can feel it quicken as he breathes out those last words. The meaning of them is not lost to Dean and he’s grateful for the night’s darkness, covering the blush flaring on his cheeks. He stares up into the sky, where Cas’ finger had been pointing, finding the Northern star easily. It’s strange, thinking of himself like this, realizing that someone other than Sam considers him important, precious, the brightest star… home… Dean inhales a shuddering breath, then sits up just to turn and lie down on his side, facing Cas, instead of the endless sky above them. His hand searches for Cas and takes it, intertwines their fingers and brings it up to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly.  
“I like that”, he says and it’s not just about the star, but about everything else too.  
He inches even closer, resting his forehead against Cas’, wrapping one of his legs around his torso and pulling the blanket over both of them.  
Hours later, it’s Cas who gets up first, whispering something about ‘catching a cold’ and pulling Dean with him into the Impala, where they make love, slowly, gently. It’s Cas who drives them back home, too, Dean too spent, too exhausted to even stand properly. When Cas pulls the blanket over his body, Dean’s hand snatches for his wrist, holding him there, looking up at him for a moment. When he lets go - cause he has to… he knows Cas has some appointments in just a few hours and he knows he will be back - he can see that he’s not the only one regretting to having Cas go.  
-  
On the day of the New Year’s Charity Gala, Dean is jittery beyond compare, his fingers trembling as he buttons his shirt and unsuccessfully tries to fix his tie. When the doorbell rings and Sam - already dressed neatly into his tux - opens the door, Dean is still in his bedroom, practically yelling at his reflection in the standing mirror.  
*  
There’s the usual sounds of greeting at the door, and then Cas walks into the room, stopping and staring at Dean for a moment. His eyes are shocked wide, stunned by how good Dean looks in the tuxedo.  
“…Wow.”  
For once Castiel, master of prose, is speechless. He flushes then and looks down, clearing his throat before walking over to Dean.  
“Let me…”  
He bats the boy’s hands away from the tie to fix it himself, admiring how the silken black of the tux accentuates Dean’s tan, the sharp vest underneath a beautiful black with green brocade that matches Dean’s eyes.  
Cas takes a step back to admire his handiwork, looking quite stunning himself in a classic black suit with a silver vest beneath it. He smiles and holds out his hand for Dean to take it, eyes dancing with excitement at the evening before them.  
Sam and Gabriel wait in the other room, both in tuxedos as well, Sam’s a tailored one that shows off his constantly growing legs and broad shoulders with a European tie in a shimmering black. Gabriel actually cleans up well, and went a bit vintage with a black suit, black and white leather shoes, and a pocket watch tucked away, complete with a gold chain.  
“Are we ready, gentlemen?”, Gabriel intones, grinning at Dean and Cas both.  
*  
Dean is silent while Cas fixes his tie, watching the large, slender fingers working in awe. Castiel looks incredible and Dean must admit he’s a bit breathless. He’s gotten so used to see him wearing the typical teacher’s attire, sweater vests and suit pants and it suits Cas, it really does - but as they say: every man looks good in a tux… and Cas, impossibly handsome and charming even without it, even surpasses the term ‘good looking’.  
Dean lets him take his hand and follows him in the hallway, carefully avoiding any eye contact. He’d spent the last few days trying on the tuxedo, with tie, without tie, testing out different hairstyles. Tonight his hair is a little gelled, just the tips and sides of it and appears a bit darker than usual. It makes Dean older somehow, seeming more grown up and even though he’d never admit it out loud, he kinda likes it. He’s never felt inferior to Cas, but looking at least 5 years older, Dean feels remarkably better, more confident even. They ride in the usual constellation, Sam in Gabriel’s car and Cas and Dean in the Impala. They have valet parking at the event and Cas has to talk Dean into handing the keys over to one of the employees for at least five minutes. The Zoo is alit with dozens and dozens of floating lanterns, held by only a thin, almost invisible string. It looks magical and for a moment, Dean can’t stop himself from staring. When he feels Cas’ hand nudging his, he blinks, looking back at his lover and smiling.  
“This is amazing”, he says, voice a little breathless.  
Sam is to his other side and Dean notices with a smile, that he’s similarly excited. For a moment Dean looks over into Gabriel’s face and the joy and affection he sees there is almost unbearable. He quickly averts his eyes, finally taking Castiel’s hand, as the older man leads them further inside.  
*  
The zoo rarely throws events like this, but every now and then, when they run especially low on funds, they open it up at night for a gala like this one. Most of the Zoo is off limits, but a few of the more nocturnal exhibits were open for people to walk past, with art set up on tall easels for people to look at as they walked around. Each exhibit carries a different animal, and the art that’s beside it corresponds to that animal. The tigers have gorgeous art, splashes of orange and black and white, modernist painting that could easily serve as a fantastic logo for a company that wanted a tiger as it’s symbol. Another painting is huge, easily 10 feet long by 6 feet high, and features a life size tiger prowling through a bamboo forest in black and white. The only color is where the moon beams in the painting streaks through, bringing the black and white to life with vivid greens and yellows, oranges and deep blues. It’s effective, and the size of the painting has most people stopping to stare and whisper.  
By the time Dean and Cas wander past it, there is already a sign next to it that had been flipped from the price tag of $15,000 to a sign that just says ‘SOLD’ in bold red letters.  
Cas smiles and keeps walking, glad that something of his would be able to help out the zoo so much. He looks over his shoulder at Gabriel explaining to Sam that the painting is Cas’, and that Cas doesn’t often sell paintings, as most people who wanted his art he didn’t feel wanted it for the right reasons- so Cas just doesn’t sell much.  
The night continues like this, the small group wandering through the romantically lit zoo, listening to howler monkeys and otters, penguins and peacocks. Cas is startled when a peacock flares its tail up right beside him, having forgotten that peacocks roam the grounds freely, and shoots Dean a glare when he laughs out loud at the look on Cas’ face.  
He lets it go though, when Dean pulls in close to press a kiss to Cas’ neck, which earns a soft hum from Cas, and a snort from Gabriel who had been walking behind them, trying his hardest not to reach out and hold Sam’s hand.  
*  
The scenery is beautiful and Dean finds himself staring at animals and art exhibitions equally fascinated most of the time. They hold hands for most of the evening and it doesn’t even strike Dean as strange or awkward; instead it feels natural, good… right…  
They count down to zero at midnight and while couples all around them fall into each other’s arms, kissing each other enthusiastically, both Dean and Cas and Sam and Gabe settle for a tight hug and an awkward moment of silence.  
By the time the clock shows 3 am, somehow they get split, losing Sam and Gabe in the chitchatting crowd and while Dean wants to go look for them, Cas assures him they’ll be fine. He gets a text from Sam, just when they sit down on a small mural next to the gazelle corral, saying that they’re alright and that Gabe would bring him home. Dean is surprised he doesn’t feel as worried anymore as he maybe should at the thought of Gabriel and Sam alone. Cas offers him a glass of champagne, taken from one of the neatly dresses waiters wandering around and Dean takes it, clinking glasses with Cas and drinking, eyes on each other.  
It’s so ridiculously romantic, sitting in intimate togetherness, almost alone, apart from the occasional bypassing couple or waiter, the moon and floating lanterns the only light around, dimly litting the stunning surroundings of the zoological garden. Dean feels lightheaded, as he puts the glass down on the ground next to them, tilting his head so that he can rest it on Castiel’s shoulder. A sigh escapes his lips and his hand squeezes Cas’ gently.  
“Thanks for this”, he says quietly, thumb absentmindedly stroking over the back of Castiel’s hand.  
*  
Gabriel takes Sam home, where they sit in the car and talk for an hour until they both realize that they had been sitting in the car, talking, for an hour. They finally say a hesitant goodbye, but only after Sam makes Gabriel promise to call him once he gets home, because Sam wants to make sure Gabriel gets there okay. Gabriel drives away blushing slightly after Sam’s kiss on his cheek, and Sam goes upstairs feeling happier than he has in years.  
*  
The gala ends soon after Gabriel and Sam leave, with a small speech of thank you to all the contributing artists from the head of the Zoo, and a round of applause. Cas looks more embarrassed by it than anything, and grabs Dean’s hand to make a hasty exit as the speaker soon starts calling individual artists up to thank them in person.  
After the valet returns his baby to him, Dean and Cas drive toward Daly City, and Cas’ apartment, until Cas puts a hand on Dean’s arm and looks over at him. His face is calm, but his words a little hopeful as he speaks.  
“….I don’t want to go home yet…”  
Dean smirks and shrugs.  
“Where do you want to go?”  
“….Just… drive…”  
Cas slowly guides them through Daly City and up a long twisting road to Twin Peaks, the outlook that looks over all of San Francisco, and across the bay to Oakland. Cas gets out of the Impala and drags Dean over to the edge, standing hand in hand and looking out over everything. At 4 in the morning, the sun was still down, and the lights of the city glittered like they were alive, pulsing with energy. Everything else looked so small in comparison when you were standing on top of the world.  
It was freezing, and they could see their breath come out of their mouths when they exhaled, and all Cas could think about was how he wanted to kiss Dean… and how his life just wouldn’t be complete anymore without him.  
“….Dean…”  
The boy’s face turns towards Cas, eyebrows raised.  
“Yah, what’s up Cas?”  
“….Thank you for coming out with me tonight…”  
Dean grins amicably and shrugs, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Cas frowns slightly and tugs on Dean’s hand to get his attention again, as he kept looking out over the city and its lights, as if looking at Cas in this place was too much to handle.  
“….Dean.”  
Dean bites on his lower lip from the inside, barely noticeable, but Cas notices. He notices everything about Dean.  
“….You seduced me in a dirty club three months ago…and before then I’d never had any sort of sexual interaction with a man.”  
Dean frowns, not sure where the hell this is going.  
“…I wanted to say thank you….If you hadn’t have taken that leap, I wouldn’t have experienced or felt the things I’ve felt in the last few months…I wouldn’t have had the chance to get to know you, to become your friend…your lover…and I can honestly say that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me…”  
Cas rushes on, not wanting Dean to stop him.  
“….I once told you that you were like the sun. That you would burn me. I can’t imagine a more spectacular way to live and die than to love a celestial being with the intensity that I love you.”  
Dean stares at Cas for a second, then blinks.  
“…What?”  
Cas laughs and takes Dean’s face in his hands.  
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes… I love you Dean Winchester… and I’m tired of pretending that it’s okay that I don’t say it, because it’s not. I love you, I love every thing about you, and it’s high time you heard it from my lips, instead of just from my hands…”  
He brushes a thumb over Dean’s cheekbone the way he has for the last month after they were done making love, and smiles softly, looking up into Dean’s eyes.  
“…I love you.”

Dean is tired and exhausted, the cool night air brushing over the little that is visible of his skin. When Cas starts talking, tugging at his hand, begging him to look at him, Dean feels a strange mixture of confusion and fear. Where was this going? What was it that Cas needed to get off his chest so badly he wouldn’t even let Dean say a word? The confession tumbles out of his mouth, hanging in the air between them, as Cas keeps holding Dean’s face, his own face bright and full of hope and confidence and love.  
Dean feels himself stiffen in his grip, feels his hands twitching, his feet shuffling backwards a few inches. He brings up his own hands after another minute of expectant silence, cupping Cas’ and gently but determinedly brushes them off, taking a step backwards and staring back at him.  
“……love?”  
The word comes hesistantly and full of disarray, his voice quiet and careful and when he sees the confusion on Castiel’s face, he has to avert his eyes, looking at the beautiful view they have from up here.  
He huffs out a laugh then, not even sure where it came from, shaking his head in disbelief.  
“Do you even know what ‘love’ is?”  
He takes another step backwards, turning his back on Cas, making sure he can’t see how his every word cuts deep into his own flesh.  
“Dean…”, Cas says, his voice so fragile that it almost breaks Dean’s heart.  
“You love me? Like you loved your girlfriend??”  
His voice is louder now, more angry than amused or confused and he has to force himself to keep talking, to get this out.  
“Yeah, Cas… you may have forgotten about her - but I haven’t. You have a girlfriend and yet you’re here telling me you fucking love me!?”  
He’s shouting now, turning back around and immediately regretting it, as he sees the hurt on Castiel’s face. He steps closer, grabbing Castiel by the shoulder and pushing him backwards.  
“Dean, that’s not… you don’t understand-“  
“Oh, trust me, I do understand what this is about… you’re tired of her. And I’m something new, something exciting. You can have your way with me, a whole bunch of fresh firsts for Mister Novak.”  
He lets go of Castiel’s jacket, playfully smoothing the wrinkles and patting the spot almost teasingly.  
“But how long until you’re done with me, huh? How long until you decide you need a new thrill and I’m the one alone at home while you’re cheating on me with some whore?!”  
He yells the last few words, ignoring the stumbled fragments of an apology or an explanation, just turning around and walking, running, away, just away from this place and this moment and this man, who’s turned his whole life upside down and took everything Dean had to offer and more. He yanks the car keys out of his slacks pocket, throwing them on the ground next to the Impala audibly, and he vanishes into the night, feet tumbling over small stones and twigs, as he makes his way back down into the valley by foot.  
It’s only when he reaches a bus stop just outside the city, that he stops, sitting down on the bench and burying his face into his hands. Hot tears run down his face and Dean tries to tell himself that he did the right thing, that this pain and guilt and regret he’s feeling now is not half as bad as it could’ve been, once Cas would decide to throw him away and replace him. But as his body shakes with desperate sobs, Dean knows he’s lying to himself.  
*  
Cas is stunned into silence by Dean’s abrupt departure. He stands on top of the world, and yet he’s never felt so absolutely alone, frozen by the air and Dean’s harsh bitter words. It’s a good five minutes before he can even move, and then another five before he can start the Impala. He drives down the mountain, looking out for a gorgeous man in a tux, which shouldn’t be that hard to spot at 4:30 in the morning in a residential neighborhood… but it’s as if Dean has vanished off the face of the Earth. Cas searches for him for an hour, up and down side streets and alleyways, along bus routes and the main streets he would take to walk back home… but he doesn’t find him.  
The entire time there’s something gnawing at his insides, as if someone had stuck a wind-up key into his intestines and was turning it a quarter turn every time Cas remembered Dean’s words.  
‘Do you even know what love is?’  
TWIST.  
‘You’re tired of her. I’m something new, something exciting.’  
TWIST.  
‘How long until you decide you need a new thrill?’  
TWIST.  
By the time Cas gives up on finding Dean, he feels sick to his stomach, bile rising in the back of his throat at the mixture of sadness, betrayal and anger he feels. Dean didn’t even give him a chance to explain, a chance to tell him that Cas hasn’t been with Meg in months. That he dumped her only a few days after first giving Dean the notebook, because even then he’d already begun having feelings for Dean that were more intense than anything he’d felt before in his life.  
But Dean hadn’t given him that chance. He’d shut Cas down before he could explain, and then ran off into the night like a child, instead of the grown man that Cas knew him to be.  
So when Cas parks the Impala on Dean’s street, and looks up at his apartment and sees no lights on, he doesn’t bother leaving a note to explain himself. He drops the keys to the Impala into Dean’s locked mailbox, knowing they would be safe there until Dean got them, then gets a cab home. He strips off the tux and hangs it up, then crawls into bed, thankful that he still had a few more days of vacation before he had to go back to work… back to seeing Dean, the boy who stole his heart and then told him he didn’t even know what love was. Cas falls asleep with the words ‘I love you’ burning a brand into the back of his mind, and tears that refuse to fall prickling his eyes. It’s sad that the one time in his life he knows it would feel good to cry, to sob and scream and beat his pillow until the stuffing was all over the room, that Cas couldn’t even shed a single tear.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam knows something is up, knows it the moment Dean refuses to have pancakes for breakfast, the moment Sam is stopped entering his bedroom by a locked door and Dean’s muffled “Leave me alone”. It’s impossible for him to understand, to guess what could’ve possibly happened after Gabriel and he had left, that made Dean become like this. Dean spends the next few days in his room, only leaving it to go to the bathroom or get some toast from the kitchen in the middle of the night, successfully avoiding Sam every time. On the fifth day, Sam is close to kicking in the door and when Dean finally opens, Sam doesn’t know if he’s relieved or scared shitless. There’s no rings under Dean’s eyes, no sign of him crying or having gotten no sleep. He looks… normal… a bit pale, a bit tired but not even close as bad as Sam had guessed. He forces his brother to sit down at the kitchen table with him, even manages to make him eat a bowl of soup, but Dean won’t talk to him, not about what had happened. So Sam stops asking. Things normalize during the next week and by the time January 9th and with it the first day of school in 2012 comes around, there seems to be everything okay again. Apart from Dean not having seen or called Cas since New Year’s Eve, hasn’t even mentioned him once.  
Dean is surprisingly calm, when he makes his way through the corridors and towards the art classroom after lunch. He’s got the notebook under his arm, as he enters and pulls it out just to slide it on the teacher’s desk. He doesn’t look at Cas, as he walks towards a free seat in the back, taking out a piece of paper and his art supplies, before leaning back in his chair. Outside he seemed calm and composed. On the inside he was screaming. His whole being longed to be with Cas, to run over and pull him into his arms, to hold him, to tell him he’s sorry, he’s been a dick, he doesn’t deserve the love Cas is offering. But it would make things complicated, would make him vulnerable and weak. So he doesn’t.  
*  
Cas doesn’t look up when Dean walks in. He doesn’t acknowledge the notebook, doesn’t even touch it. He just stands up and shuts the door to his classroom when all the students are in their seats and the bell had rung, and then starts the lesson.  
To an outsider, Cas appears normal, cheerful even. He spends the first thirty minutes talking to his students about their Winter Breaks, what they did and saw and experienced. It’s Joanna who raises her hand and then asks a question that finally reveals how bad Cas is, but only to the trained eye.  
“What did you do over the break Mr. Novak?”  
Castiel’s entire body stiffens for just a split second, his face looking tired and drawn, as he swallows hard, and then smiles. Cas recounts his Christmas eve with Gabriel, but skips Christmas day with Dean and Sam. He goes on to talk about the Zoo Gala, and how successful it had been, but doesn’t mention how he’d confessed his love to Dean on top of Twin Peaks, nor how Dean had run away from him and left him alone that night. Cas is all smiles, but they don’t reach his eyes, the blue dull instead of their usual vibrant color.  
He hands out the assignment, the first large assignment of the new year. It’s a book report of sorts. Each student is to choose a mural from San Francisco’s many street or alley murals, and do a report on it. Who made it, when, what the cultural or artistic influences were that they could see, what the mural was made for… it’s an excuse for the kids to get out and see the street art, and they would be taking a field trip later in the week to walk around the city and see the art first hand, with Cas as their tour guide.  
“Now make sure to get your parents to sign the permission slips! I’ll need these by Wednesday so we can go Friday, alright?”

*

Dean takes a form as the student in front of him gives it to him but slides it into his bag unregarded. He doesn’t even bother to raise his hand and wait to get called up, just starts speaking into the busy silence.

“My parents are dead, Mr Novak. So I guess I won’t be coming along.”

The students around him, look back at him, some of them shocked, others quietly chuckling at Dean’s defiant attitude.

“Oh and by the way…”, he adds after a few more seconds, eyes boring into Castiel’s across the room “My holidays sucked. Thanks for asking.”

He hates the way he talks, the way he acts. He’s his old self, his cocky, narcissistic, rebellious self and he hates that he’s the only one who knows that it’s all an act, a shield to protect himself from getting hurt.  
*  
“…Since you are 18, you don’t need a permission slip, Mr. Winchester.”  
Cas looks up from where he’d been leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest while talking quietly with another student. He stares at Dean for another moment, then licks his lips and speaks again, his voice calm and collected.  
“….but if you would rather not join the rest of the class on the field trip on Friday, I can’t make you.”  
He stares at Dean for a long moment then, eyes boring into Dean’s, unflinching. He’s not scared of this act, because that’s all it is. Cas had seen Dean come apart beneath him, cry out his name in pleasure, and roll over in the middle of the night and seek out Castiel until Cas wrapped his arms around him tight. Cas knows Dean, and the boy that’s sitting in his classroom is a pale shade of who Dean really is.  
“That rule applies to the rest of you as well. 18 and up, you don’t need the permission slip, but it’s helpful to have one for the school to know you’ll be going. If you aren’t going with us on the trip, you need to be here, in this classroom during this time. I will have a substitute here with another lesson plan for those of you who can’t make it.”  
Cas stands up and claps his hands together.  
“Alright, I have a short errand to run up to the teacher’s lounge, I’ll be back soon, just don’t set anything on fire. Feel free to experiment with the supplies, just don’t be wasteful.”  
Cas turns around and walks out the door without bothering to look back, just knowing he needed a little time to himself to decompress, to let go of the anger that was bubbling up inside of him.  
*

Dean doesn’t fill out the form and when his classmates gather on the schoolyard on Friday morning, Dean is the only student sitting in the classroom. He watches Cas walk ahead, the rest of the class following his lean figure, until they’re out of view, turning back to stare at the tasks the substitute teacher scribbles across the blackboard.

He takes Sam on a weekend trip, driving the Impala down to Santa Cruz and checks them into a small inn. They go to the Boardwalk on Saturday, Dean lets Sam ride all the rollercoasters and other thrill rides he wants to and buys him cotton candy and roasted almonds. Dean overhears him talking to Gabriel on the phone while they’re walking down the beach on Sunday, a blissful smile on his brothers lips and Dean feels horrible for envying his brother with a fiery passion, for wishing it was him on the phone, talking to Cas, hearing his voice and telling him how much he misses him.

They return to San Francisco late that night, Sam almost immediately stumbling into bed when they arrive around 11pm. Dean lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a full hour. He thought about Cas almost every minute of every day since they stopped seeing each other. Dean couldn’t think of it as a break up, wouldn’t give himself the permission to regard what they had had as a relationship for just a second. Apart from all the little things, he misses the sex too. He misses how Cas would hold him close afterwards, pressing soothing kisses onto his neck, nipping at his earlobe and whispering soft words of affection against his sweaty skin. Without noticing it, Dean had reached for his cellphone, Cas number on the display taunting him. He thinks of that first night, of how shy and unsure Cas had been. How Dean had taken the first step, had kissed him and had felt him surrender, giving in to whatever connection there had been between them from the very start. He throws the phone against the wall without having planned it, the plastic shattering and falling down on the floor with a loud thumping noise.

Of all the things he had fucked up in his life, this seems to be the worst. The memory of Cas’ lips on his is there when he closes his eyes and Dean can’t help the angry tears sliding down his face, as he realizes how stupid he had been denying them this, now that he knows that he will never feel the soft press of chapped lips against his own.  
*  
Cas wasn’t fairing much better than Dean. He had spent the week going to sleep every night the minute he got home, not eating much, and running for hours every morning. He lost weight, not enough for most people to notice, but Gabriel did when he saw him on Saturday, the day after the field trip.  
“…Cas.”  
“Hmm?”, Cas was distracted, eating incredibly slowly while they watched a documentary on WWII together in Gabriel’s apartment.  
“…What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing.”  
Ah, something was wrong. Gabriel wasn’t stupid, he could tell something was up from how quickly Cas had claimed nothing was wrong.  
“You’re lying to me.”  
“…I told Dean I loved him.”  
“What? When?”  
“The night of the gala… I took him to Twin Peaks and told him I loved him… and then he said that I had a girlfriend, and I’d forgotten about her and I didn’t even know how to love.”  
Cas stares at his plate, then turns to look at Gabriel, not surprised by the utter shock that was on Gabriel’s face. His brother opens his mouth and shuts it several times, like a gaping fish out of water, struggling to breathe.  
“W..what?! Are you kidding me!?…You broke up with Meg months ago, didn’t you? Didn’t you tell him then?”  
Cas stills, face drawn, and the answer is clear to Gabriel then.  
“Oh… christ almighty, you two are such babies… Call him and tell him!”  
“I can’t.”  
“Why not?”  
“….Because he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”  
Gabriel scoffs and rolls his eyes.  
“How do you know that?”  
“…He gave me the notebook back…. he… Dean took a red marker to the drawings… they’re ruined.”  
Cas swallows hard, the tears he had felt so many times since that night coming back like hot needles to his eyes, prickling but never falling. Gabriel is quiet for a moment, then he scoots over and takes Castiel’s plate from him, puts it on the ground, and wraps his arms around his brother tight. Cas stiffens for a moment, pulling away, but Gabe just tightens his grip and whispers, “I’m so sorry Cas”.  
And Cas cries. He cries quietly, silent sobs wracking his body as he hangs onto Gabriel, fingers clenching around handfuls of fabric, tears sliding scalding hot down his cheeks and staining Gabriel’s expensive silk shirt. Gabriel doesn’t move, just holds Cas and rocks them both while the TV talks about Pearl Harbor, and the worst attack on US soil before 9/11.  
Cas stays the night at Gabriel’s Saturday, and Sunday. He takes a sick day Monday and Tuesday, the shock of everything finally having washed away, leaving nothing but bitter sadness in its wake, and Cas can’t even bring himself to get out of bed. Gabriel leaves him alone, which Cas is grateful for. The last thing he wants is to bring Gabriel down, who spent most of Sunday talking to Sam on the phone… about their brothers.  
*  
Cas isn’t at school until Wednesday and Dean does his best to ignore him when he’s back. He does what Cas says as a teacher, teaming up or working alone, if he asks the students to, but other than that they don’t talk. By the end of the week, Dean hasn’t spoken with Castiel at all and whenever their eyes meet, it feels like this had all been a dream. Reality comes closing in, ripping out his insides and torturing him with having to see the subject of his guilt-ridden nightmares day in, day out. Another weekend passes with Dean sitting in his room, doing nothing but staring out the window or at the wall, thinking about Cas, while Sam sits in the kitchen, worried about his big brother. The weather had turned bad during the first few weeks of January and when Sam packs his bags for the upcoming school trip, Dean is close to forbidding him to go. Only when he sees the determination on his brother’s face, he gives in, even though he still has a bad feeling, letting Sam go like this. It’s Monday afternoon, when he brings him to the meeting point, patting his back and promising him to pick him up on Friday.  
*  
Cas had been spending more and more time at Gabriel’s, so much so that the spare room at Gabriel’s was practically becoming his. It didn’t really matter though, as whenever he was home, he never saw Meg. It was like living in a ghost house. He would never see or hear her, but he would come home and things would be moved in the main areas of the house, food would be gone and there would be dishes in the sink.  
Cas thought about it, and realized that Meg probably had found a new boyfriend, and like himself, just hadn’t brought them back to the apartment.

The walk around the city looking at the murals had been a great success, and the students had had all weekend to do the reports, and Monday after they were all turned in Cas announced a new project.

“I got the principal to agree to us using the walls of this classroom to experiment with graffiti style art. Make sure to wear clothes you don’t care about for the rest of the week, as we’ll be using spray paint and it gets everywhere!”

The classroom erupts in cheers, and Cas can’t help the soft smile that graces his face as his students buzz with excitement. The smile falters though when he looks up and catches Dean’s eyes, and once again he has to look away, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat.

*

Dean likes the idea, as he likes pretty much every idea Cas had had for the time he’d been his teacher. But when the rest of the students cheer and applaud, so obviously looking forward to this project, something in him holds him back, tells him ‘no’, that he doesn’t deserve to be happy, to enjoy himself. Their eyes meet for a brief moment and Dean’s legs twitch he’s that close from standing up and crossing the room, throwing himself into Cas’ arms. He lowers his gaze just as quickly as Cas does, though, and the moment is gone.

Dean has no other choice but to participate in the project but he retreats to a corner with only two spray cans, a deep blue and black one, mindlessly covering his part of the room in haphazardly lines and curls. He notices Cas looking over to him a few times but while he walks around, examining the other students’ work and giving advice, he never stops by Dean’s corner. He knows it should make him feel better, that Cas seems so calm, so composed, knows he should be happy for him to forget that quickly about what they had. Instead it’s like somebody’s cutting his chest open, tugging at his intestines whenever he sees him, instead of ripping them out in one. It’s even more painful like this, knowing that his heart’s breaking slowly but surely - but he’s used to being left alone, used to having to survive without anyone other than Sam. So he keeps spraying, the mural eventually turning into the only dark and gloomy part of the room…  
*  
Wednesday night Gabriel and Cas celebrate Gabriel’s birthday together out at a club, but despite the attention from several handsome men, Cas can’t muster more than a hesitant smile. Gabriel has fun, dancing with friends and drinking, but at the end of the night he and Cas catch a cab home to his apartment, neither of them having even been kissed the entire night. Gabriel calls Sam, absolutely drunk, after Cas goes to bed, and babbles on for hours.  
Most of the conversation is about how amazing Gabriel finds Sam, how it’s impossible that Sam is only 14… or is it 15? ..No, 14…right? Gabriel giggles at himself and sighs, his voice pouty as he complains how unfair it was that they had to wait so long until Gabriel could show Sam just what he could do with his tongue, other than sass people.  
Sam of course, is away on a school field trip all week long, and having the man-he-wishes-was-his-boyfriend calling him, drunk, and horny, wasn’t something he’d planned on. He goes outside and sits alone so he can talk to Gabriel.  
An hour later, Gabriel has sobered up some, and the talk is much less woe-is-me-for-you-being-underage, and has shifted onto a subject that had grown popular in the last week: their brothers.  
“…You know, Dean is an idiot sometimes.”  
“Tell me something I don’t know, Gabriel.”  
“…Okay….Cas broke up with Meg months ago.”  
“…..ok?”  
“…Dean thought he was still with her when Cas confessed he loved him…That’s why they’re not together anymore.”  
“…Oh…shit.”  
“Yeah, oh shit. The stupid ass wouldn’t even listen to Cas when he tried to tell him about it, that he’d left Meg months ago, the moment he realized he had feelings for Dean.”  
“…But, why didn’t Cas just tell Dean then?”  
Gabriel scoffs, then sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. His voice is tired when he speaks, as if he’d thought about this very subject far too much.  
“…You really think your commitment phobic brother would have been happy to hear that Cas was ready to be in a serious relationship with him two weeks after meeting him?”  
Sam pauses, then sighs and lets out a huff of a laugh.  
“I guess you have a point…”  
“…Mhmm.”  
“…I know this is a complete segway…but…”  
“Yah?”  
“I miss you Gabe.”  
“…I miss you too, kiddo….”

*

After Sam hangs up, he calls his brother. Dean picks up after the third ringing and Sam doesn’t even give him a chance to say more than ‘hello’, telling him about how Cas had left Meg long ago and that they were living separately in their house, not even having seen each other for months, that Cas had spent most of the time at Gabriel’s place anyway and that Dean should just swallow down his stupid pride and call him, go to him, and apologize for being the biggest dick on this planet. Dean listens quietly to his brother, biting his lip as he learns things he wished he’d known sooner or nothing at all. He’d felt guilty and miserable ever since he’d left Cas alone after what possibly was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to him and now he knows that it had been completely for nothing. He could’ve spared them both the heartache and the knowledge of it makes it hard for him to breathe. He mutters a ‘Thanks Sam. See you on Friday’ and hangs up, not listening to Sam’s protests and turning off his phone afterwards.

The rest of the week is even harder, now that Dean knows how completely ridiculous this whole act had been. Once, or twice during lunch breaks he finds himself unconsciously walking towards the arts classroom but stops himself in time every time. He eats his lunch alone, underneath the shadows of the trees outside the school building, from where he can see inside the classroom, watch Cas grading papers and taking notes and Dean feels that this is the only righteous punishment for him.  
Friday afternoon comes around and Dean can’t find his phone. He knows he took it with him to the car, knows he’d had it when he had slipped inside, rain soaking his clothes and wind tugging at his clothes. It’s gone now, though, and just when Dean thinks it can’t get any worse, he’s stuck in the traffic jam of the fucking century. He’s already late for picking up his brother and nothing’s moving around him. Dean curses, letting go of the steering wheel and turning around to continue the search for his phone.

*

Sam shuffles closer to the wall, pulling his jacket tighter around his body. It’s pouring by now and Sam’s wet to the bones, but still the teacher standing next to him is shivering even more than himself.  
“I’m sorry Sam, but I can’t wait here with you all day.”  
Sam sighs and nods, trying for the hundredth time to reach Dean. Voicemail. Again. He bites his lip, thinking, and making a decision, dialing another familiar number.  
“Novak?”  
“Cas? It’s Sam.”  
“…Sam..?”  
He clears his throat, shifting from foot to foot, as he continues talking.  
“Look, I have a huge request… I just came back from my school trip and Dean was supposed to pick me up but he hasn’t showed up and.. I can’t reach him, Cas. I can’t stay here for much longer, the teacher says somebody needs to pick me up and Gabe’s at work and I thought-“  
“Breathe Sam. It’s okay, I will come pick you up. Where are you now?”  
A sigh of relief escapes Sam’s lips and he quickly tells Cas the address.  
“Wait for me there. I will be there in 15 minutes.”

*

When Dean finds his phone, he’s already more than two hours late and has six freakin’ messages. He listens to all of them, guilt constantly rising. When he hears Sam’s voice in the last message from twenty minutes ago, he’s pretty sure he’s having a heartattack.

“Hey, Dean… listen… please don’t freak out, okay? I’m at the hospital… I’m okay, relax but… can you come, please?”

Dean pulls his car over in the middle of the street without looking, tires screeching as he races in the direction of UCSF Medical Center.

When Dean gets to the Medical Center, Sam is waiting for him in the ER, filling out paper work a Doctor gave him. He looks up as Dean races in, his green eyes wide and his heart in his throat. Sam waves to Dean, and offers his a sheepish smile as his brother crosses the room.  
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened, Sammy?”  
Dean’s questions come quickly, rapidly fired at Sam so that the younger Winchester has to hold up his hands to calm Dean down and shut him up.  
“Dean… I’m fine…really…”  
Dean takes a breath, then sits down beside Sam as the Doctor takes the paperwork and leaves them alone.  
“What happened?”  
“…We got into a car crash… some guy didn’t see our brake lights through the rain and he rear ended us.”  
Dean’s eyes go wide and his fists clench.  
“What?…wait…who’s ‘us’ ?”  
“…Me n’ Cas…. after I couldn’t reach you…I called Cas to come get me.”  
Sam holds up his hands in self defense at the look on Dean’s face.  
“I know, I know… but I didn’t have anyone else to call, Dean. You weren’t there..and I couldn’t reach you…. and Gabriel was at work and when he’s working his phone is on silent.”  
Dean takes a deep breath, trying to make sense of all of this. When he realizes there’s something wrong, it hits him like a ton of bricks.  
Car crash. Sam seems to be okay, just a few bumps and an egg on his forehead the size of a fist, but he said he’s okay…. but what about Cas?  
Dean’s heart seizes in his chest, a wave of foreboding washing over him as all the blood drains from his face.  
“Sam… where’s Cas?”  
“…He’s in back right now… They wouldn’t let me see him, not family n’ all.”  
*  
Dean doesn’t wait for any other explanations, turning around and rushing over to the ward, where a couple of nurses bustle around.  
“Castiel Novak. Where’s he?”  
It takes a moment until one of the nurses looks up at him, eyebrow cocked, the look on her angular face calm and unimpressed. She pulls a clipboard closer, eyes scooting over the chart on it, then looks back up.  
“And you are…?”  
“Dean W-.. I’m Dean…. we’re… I’m his b-boyfriend…..”  
The words comes over his lips hesistantly, feeling strange and unfamiliar but yet somehow… right… The nurse still doesn’t look particularly well-disposed but finally nods, leaving the ward and pointing Dean down the corridor to room 4.16. There’s this stupid ‘no running in hospitals’ rule but right now Dean doesn’t give a flying fuck, as he races down the hallway, stopping only when he reaches his destination and sees a doctor standing by the bedside, a nurse busy with bandaging the head of a very wet and very crumpled looking Castiel. He’s speechless at the view and before he can say a word, the doctor notices his appearance and smiles at him.  
“Can I help you, sir?”  
Dean swallows heavily, trying to tear his eyes away from the bloody scratches on Castiel’s arms and finally manages to look at the doctor.  
“I’m.. is he….. ‘s he okay?”  
The nurse finishes up the bandaging and steps backwards and finally Cas looks up, his eyes full of confusion, of disbelief.  
“Don’t worry. Just a few scratches and a mild concussion, nothing to worry about.”  
They leave the room quickly after that, pulling the door closed behind them and leaving the two men in absolute silence. Dean hesitates for just a moment, then steps closer, one of his hands gripping the bars at the end of the bed, steadying himself as good as possible. He doesn’t seem to be able to avert his eyes, too caught up in staring back into those bright blue orbs he’d feared for a brief moment he’d never see again.  
“You..”, he begins but the words he wants to say so badly seem to be stuck in his throat, so instead he says “You okay?”  
*  
Castiel had had a long day. First, yet another week without so much as speaking to Dean, let alone hugging him or making love or any of the other wonderful things Cas had gotten used to doing together with Dean. He had papers and journals to read and grade, a lesson plan to do, but had been pulled away from his work by Sam’s request for help. Which really, truly wasn’t a big deal, until they’d been rear ended. The borrowed car of another staff member had a huge dent in the rear bumper now he was sure, and Cas had had his first ride to the ER in an ambulance, much to his dismay.  
They’d told him that Sam would be just fine once he woke up in the hospital, having passed out on the way there from the concussion and noise from the sirens and jostling of the ride.  
So, all in all, Cas hadn’t had a great day, and it had been very very long, and all he wanted now was for the intense throbbing in his head to go away so he could sleep.  
…but no, he couldn’t even have that.  
Dean Winchester, the object of his utter devotion, intense love and current breaker of his heart is standing at the foot of his bed, asking if he’s okay.  
So Cas says the first thing that comes to his mind, and lets it out with a soft sigh, completely unfiltered.  
“…Why do you care, Dean?”  
Cas looks up at Dean, so very tired, the pain of the day and the past few weeks so very plain on his face as he stares at Dean.  
*

He knows he deserves this. Knows it’s what he should’ve expected, after what he’d done to the man in front of him. It doesn’t guard him from how hard the words hit, from how badly the disapproving tone hurts, stirring up all the guilt and self-hatred he’d felt for the past two weeks. He opens his mouth but not a word escapes his bone dry throat, so he turns his head, silent, staring at the ground for a long moment.  
“I was an idiot”, he then says, voice quiet and careful but unyielding.  
His hands are shaking at his sides, clenched to fists, nails digging into his palms.  
“No.. scratch that, I was a fucking asshole!”  
He looks up again, finally, his eyes meeting Castiel’s, a frown on the older man’s face, as he regards the boy in front of him with suspicion.  
“I-.. I really don’t know what I was thinking…… I guess I.. I just got too used to being left behind and I was scared of losing you too and… as fucked up as it sounds but.. I thought it was better to leave you first…..”  
He falls silent again, his chest constricting at the pain flickering over Castiel’s pale face. He doesn’t know if what he’s saying makes any sense or if he’s just digging himself an even deeper hole right now, but the words don’t stop, now that he’s started talking, getting everything he’d held in for too long off his chest. He steps closer to Cas, one hand on his wrist, holding on even when Cas tries to jerk it away.

“I’m sorry, Cas”, he says and his voice is a lot softer now, his brows furrowed in desperation and fear of screwing this up, of losing Cas for good “I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life… Cas, I-.. I’m so in love with you that it hurts….”

He feels his cheeks flushing and his hands are shaking like leaves but he keep holding on to Castiel’s wrist even tighter, like it’s the only thing still keeping him sane. He tries to say something, keep talking, afraid that the moment he’d stop speaking, Cas would tell him to leave, that he never wanted to see him again. His other hand comes up to brush a speck of dirt off Castiel’s cheek, his palm resting against the warmth of his skin and for a moment Dean closes his eyes, trying just to breathe.

Their faces are so close, he can feel Castiel’s breath on his lips and his tongue dips out to wet them instinctively. Cas hasn’t said a word yet, hasn’t even given him any sign of understanding anything he’d said. But Dean is too far gone to care. If this is his last chance to maybe make things right, to be with Cas, to touch him, to see his bright blue eyes that break the light so breathtakingly beautiful up close, Dean has to make it count. So he leans in closer, his lips brushing over Castiel’s just slightly, a shudder running down his spine at the painfully gentle touch.

And then he kisses him.


	16. Chapter 16

Cas is so surprised that he can’t stop the quick gasping inhalation through his nose as Dean kisses him. What-… what’s going on?  
‘I’m so in love with you that it hurts.’  
The words echo through his mind as he sits, frozen, eyes open wide to stare at Dean as the boy kisses him. Dean’s eyebrows were drawn together in pain or concentration, Cas couldn’t tell, but the corners of his eyes were wet, and his lips trembled against Castiel’s.  
Cas feels a rush of warmth come over him, over heating as he realizes what this is.  
Dean…. loves him.  
Actually loves him.  
And he’s admitting it to himself, and to Cas.  
Cas feels every hair on his body stand on end as Dean pulls away, confusion and hurt on his face as Cas hadn’t kissed back.  
“….Cas…?”  
Cas sucks in a deep breath and then moves his eyes from where they’d been staring at Dean’s lips to the boy’s bright green watery ones. His voice is rough when he speaks, harsh in its tone.  
“….You’re an idiot.”  
Dean’s eyebrows twitch, drawing up and to the center at the pain those words caused.  
“…but, GOD do I love you.”  
Cas reaches out with both hands and wraps them around the sides of Dean’s face, thumbs on his cheekbones and fingers brushing back into short cut hair. He pulls Dean back in, crushing their mouths together in the kiss that had been months coming- the kiss that he’d wanted to give Dean each and every time he saw him, when they woke up in the morning together and when Dean cried his name as he came and when Dean smiled that smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.  
This was the kiss that embodied every ounce of his love for Dean, the stubborn boy who didn’t think he could or would be loved, but that Cas loved with every corner of his heart, and every atom of his being.  
Cas pulls Dean up onto the bed as Dean’s hands clutch at him, gripping blunt fingernails into the fabric of the hospital gown. He presses kiss after kiss against those quivering lips, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders to pull him even closer in when Dean’s body starts to quake with silent sobs.  
“Shh….Dean…I love you….I love you…”  
Dean lets out a soft sob and shakes his head, mumbling his words out, and Cas can only hear some of them.  
“So…sorry, Cas…shouldn’t….never should have.…-…love you so so much….so stupid…”  
Cas shakes his head and pulls back just enough to look into Dean’s eyes, one of his hands coming back to Dean’s face thumb brushing at Dean’s cheekbone.  
“Dean…I love you…that hasn’t changed. I think I’ve loved you far longer than I even knew…You are the most amazing person I have ever met,- and you make my head and my heart hurt-…just….”  
Cas takes a deep breath and then smiles, his voice soft and loving when he speaks again.  
“…Please…don’t ever doubt my love for you again…You’re my Northern star, Dean. You guide me home. You are home to me.”  
*  
Dean didn’t think he’d ever hear anything like this. A part of him - a frightened, uncertain part, deep in the corner of his heart - is still waiting for him to wake up, to realize that he’s alone once again, that Cas is gone, leaving him, hating him for the pain and heartbreak he’d caused. Castiel’s words are ever so soft and yet every single one of them hurts like a thousand knives, drills into his heart like icicles, freezing it from the inside. How could he possibly love him, still, after how horrible Dean had acted, after all the unnecessary pain and drama? He pulls back a bit, tears clouding his vision and fingers gripping the thin fabric of Castiel’s gown.  
“I-.. I don’t understand”, he stutters, his voice hitching with quiet gasps, tears running over his cheeks and down onto the pillow “How, Cas?… why?”  
His body starts shaking again, as he reaches out one hand, fingertips ghosting over Castiel’s face, over small cuts and bruises, Dean wincing whenever Cas does. He presses his lips to Cas again, unable to hold himself back now that he’s crossed the line, broke their unspoken rule. He catches Castiel’s lower lip in between his own, tugging gently at it before pulling back again and shaking his head softly.  
“I’m sorry”, he says again, more quiet and calm now, hands still on the sides of Castiel’s face, eyes flickering with awe at the other man’s beauty “Cas….. Cas… I love you…”  
*  
Cas doesn’t say anything as he pulls Dean against him, settling back against the bed and wrapping his arms around the boy’s trembling frame.  
“…Shh….you know….”  
Cas chuckles.  
“….I was the one in an accident…I think you’re supposed to be taking care of me… not the other way around.”  
His voice is soft and sweet though, full of love, and he tilts Dean’s head up with a hand cupping his chin so he can look Dean in the eyes. Cas’ own eyes are bright and wide, the blue deeper and more crystal clear than Dean has ever seen them. He smiles then, the corners of his eyes crinkling and just the tiniest hint of teeth showing.  
“…I love you, Dean Winchester….”  
He sighs gently, like a huge weight has been lifted from him just to be able to voice the words out loud.  
“…now….”, Cas brushes a thumb over Dean’s lower lip, pulling it slightly as finger sticks to sticky skin.  
“…I think we have a lot of time to make up for….”  
Cas leans in and captures Dean’s lips in a kiss, this one quickly opening up into something deeper, Cas’ tongue sliding out and over the boy’s lips in a smooth motion, demanding entrance. Cas smiles to himself when Dean groans and opens his mouth, melting against his body, into the embrace.  
*  
And just like that Dean is gone. Cas always had had this power over him, the ability to make him forget what he was supposed to do, just with one look, one word, one touch. For months they’d been close, growing even closer with every time they shared intimacies, every piece of their past, present and future they revealed to one another. And yet there had always been this barrier, the single rule Dean had built like a wall between them, maybe to deny what he had been feeling from the start, maybe to protect his heart from pain and disappointment. When he feels Castiel’s tongue tracing his lips, he doesn’t think anything anymore. His lips open up to the gentle pressure and his whole body presses closer, trembling with anticipation, with simple and pure bewilderment. His hands find Castiel’s neck and travel up his jaw to tangle in the dark, messy hair that is not covered by bandages. Dean moans again, feeling Castiel’s body pressing against his own - but more than any other touch, even more than the clear contours of Castiel’s erection, Dean is enthralled by the press of his lips against his own, his tongue dancing with his, testing and tasting and caressing, sending shivers down his spine with each tiny, little movement. The memory of their first kiss all those months ago had slowly faded into nothingness, just a distant image, not much more than a dream. But this is real. This is Cas, holding him tight, it’s his body that is fitting so perfectly against his and his eyes on him, speaking so openly and without shame of a love that Dean hadn’t even known to exist.  
*  
The kiss lasts several minutes, each movement slow and languid, exploratory. Dean and Cas are lost in their own world when they hear a giggle and then a throat being cleared in the doorway. Cas almost growls, he’s so irritated at being interrupted, but when they look over, Gabriel and Sam are standing there, side by side. Sam is blushing, but smiling shyly, and Gabriel is just grinning ear to ear.  
“About fucking time.”  
Cas can’t help the laugh he lets out, a bark of entertained laughter, because Gabriel is absolutely right- it is about fucking time. He turns to Dean and smiles softly, then brushes a hand down the side of his face and kisses him again, slow press of lips to lips.  
“…Let’s get out of here…”  
Gabriel smirks and reaches over to ruffle Sam’s hair, only to let out a squeak as the teenager pulls him into a tight hug.  
“Woah-…heh… Hi Sammy…”  
Sam sighs and lets go of Gabriel, slightly weepy eyed, and smiles.  
“Let’s go get some dinner… I think it’s been a long day for everyone…”  
Cas smiles and looks up at Dean, arching a brow.  
“That okay with you Dean?”  
*  
Too be perfectly honest, Dean’s not okay with this. The only thing he wants right now is be with Cas, go home, fall into bed and kiss him until their lips went rough, until he could fall asleep, not only dreaming about kissing him but actually remembering, looking forward to it. He nods though, managing a small smile, before sitting up and sliding out of bed, offering Cas a hand. The words the older man had used to lovingly tease him before, are still in his head, as he stays close to him on their way to the car and helps him inside. Cas still seems to be dizzy and Dean can’t help but feeling responsible for his current state. If he had made it to pick up Sam in time, Cas wouldn’t be here now, he wouldn’t be hurt… but they wouldn’t be together too. So Dean tells his brain to shut up, as he’s driving them to a steakhouse close to Gabriel’s apartment. They have dinner and Dean even let’s Sam have a glass of champagne and when they clink glasses, thanking God for protecting their loved ones, Dean can’t tear his eyes off of Cas, who’s sitting next to him, affectionate smile on his slightly bruised lips.  
*  
That night Sam stays over at Gabriel’s, and the pair of them promise Dean they would behave, which is the only reason the slight scowl on Dean’s face disappears. Gabriel falls asleep that night after having let Sam beat him at chess, guitar hero, and mario kart. Sam kisses him goodnight on the cheek, and then snuggles into his chest. Gabriel shuts his eyes and breathes, trying to calm himself down with the number that was constantly in his head, ticking down day by day until Sam was of age. Until then, this was what they were, and he would have to be okay with that.  
Even if he knew that under the surface calm, he really wasn’t okay with it at all.  
*  
Cas is grateful that Dean lets Sam go, because the minute they’re inside his apartment, Cas is slamming Dean up against the door, and kissing him for all he’s worth. They whisper to one another, words of love and devotion, how much they missed one another, and ‘god your lips are like heaven’.  
Cas lets Dean move them into Dean’s bedroom, clothes falling away item by item as they walk, until all that’s left is boxers and socks. Cas sits down on the bed and motions for Dean to sit as well before stripping off the boy’s socks, and then his own. He slides his hands up Dean’s body, starting on surprisingly delicate ankles and moving up, over tanned muscular calves, thighs, over a slightly bony hip and smoothly muscled torso, the bumps and ripples of abs, to the vast planes of Dean’s pecs. Cas licks his lips, hungry, taking in so much beauty and still wanting more. He looks up into Dean’s eyes and smiles softly, before leaning in and kissing him deep, both of them inhaling in surprise at the fact that they did this now, they kissed, and it was more amazing than either of them thought it ever could be. Dean’s lips were like rose petals on his, soft and pliant and edible. Cas wanted to devour him, to take Dean and make him his and never let go. He pulls back just enough to look into grass green eyes, his own flickering, searching.  
“…Let me make love to you Dean…”, Cas’ voice is soft, a hint of desperation in the tone.  
*  
Dean shudders with every touch, every soft word, whispered against trembling, hot skin. He closes his eyes at Castiel’s question, his request, his promise and nods, letting the older man move him up the bed, until his head is resting on his pillow and Cas is kneeling between his legs. Dean is breathing hard, chest heaving, body shaking with anticipation. He’s never felt like this before, submissive and vulnerable, aroused from just kissing. And he wants more, would even be okay with just kissing Cas all night, if not for the rest of his life. They’d missed so much, had waited for this too long, fighting too many obstacles until reaching this moment. Dean lets out a soft sigh, as he feels Cas sliding on top of him, their hips moving against each other’s with almost painful slowness. Dean’s hands find the back of Castiel’s neck and pull him down, their lips meeting for yet another deep kiss, the intensity of it making Dean moan into his lover’s mouth uncontrollably. There’s so little clothing left and yet it feels like Cas is still too far away. One of his hands drops to where Cas’ pelvis is sliding against his, the friction oh-so-delicious, and Dean slips it inside of his boxers. Swift fingers glide over hot and stiff flesh, Dean’s lips curling into a soft smile at the unmistakable reaction it causes of Cas. He wraps his hand around him, gently stroking, his eyes never looking away from Castiel’s face right above him.  
*  
Cas’ breath catches in his throat as Dean wraps a hand around him, tugging gently. He shuts his eyes for a moment then lets out a shuddering breath, before shoving his boxers down and off. He does the same with Dean’s, kissing every inch of skin that is revealed to his eyes. Completely naked like this, Cas lies back down on top of Dean and ruts against him, slow, the burning heat that pools low in his belly fueling the gentle rocking motions. They kiss deep, and it slowly builds to a frenzy, until Cas can’t take anymore.  
“Gotta prep you Dean…”, Cas gasps, and fumbles for the lube while still trying to kiss Dean, who clings to him, arms wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders. Cas slicks his fingers and slowly slides one into Dean, pressing in so slowly, knowing that for the last two weeks- at least he hopes-, Dean hasn’t been with anyone. He was going to be tight, and so good, and Cas couldn’t wait to sink down inside of Dean, feel his skin slide against Dean’s skin, so intimate. A thought strikes him and he pulls away, flushing, his face embarrassed and ashamed.  
“…Dean….I…I hate to ask this…but, I have to. Have you been with anyone else?”  
He licks his lips and speaks again, his voice low and lust filled, his eyes searching Dean’s.  
“I haven’t… only you…”  
*  
Dean’s breath catches when Cas slides one finger inside of him and his lower body bucks up instinctively, desperately searching for more of this feelling. He tenses, body completely stilling, as Cas speaks again and for a few seconds Dean can’t quite grasp the meaning of his words. He feels his cheeks flush then, bites his lip and shakes his head ‘no’.  
“I-… I couldn’t, Cas…”, he says truthfully, fingers gripping Castiel’s upper arms tight, keeping him in place “I couldn’t even… I tried jerking off…but I couldn’t come…. not without you…”  
He pulls Cas down then, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, kissing and nipping at the soft skin there.  
“I feel so empty Cas..”, he mutters against the warm, sweaty body beneath his lips, his hands sliding over his shoulders and down his back, nails scraping almost but not quite painfully “Please… come home……”  
*  
Cas has to shut his eyes and breathe deeply to calm himself, Dean’s voice and words alone almost sending him over the edge. God, the things the boy does to him…. He quickly slips a second finger inside of Dean, rocking his hand and thrusting his fingers in and out, gently, making sure not to hurt Dean as he hurries to open him up.  
“I missed you so much… every day… every time I saw you, god…”  
Cas buries his face in Dean’s neck and bites down on the sensitive skin as he pushes a third finger in, twisting and crooking them almost brutally.  
“I wanted you so bad Dean, so beautiful… and I couldn’t, you wouldn’t even look at me…”  
He scissors his fingers out, swallowing down Dean’s cry with a kiss, thumb rubbing over his perineum as three fingers work inside Dean, pushing and thrusting and brushing over that spot inside him.  
“Tell me what you want Dean… how do you want it, baby…?”  
*  
By now Dean is almost crying with pleasure. His hips buck uncontrollably, yearning to take in Cas’ fingers as deep as possible, to feel his fingertips brushing over his prostate again and again. He’s holding onto Cas for dear life now, head thrown back and throat bared for Cas completely. It takes all his willpower to try breathing normally, to form words and they stumble over his lips hurriedly, unabashedly.  
“I want… slow..C-Cas, I.. I want it slow…”  
He cries out again, as Cas pushes his fingers inside of him once more, twisting them until Dean sees stars and digs his own fingers deeper into Castiel’s arms.  
“Li-like that one time… want you to drive me insane.. before you fuck me…”  
*  
Cas remembers. It was the one and only time he’d tried to teach Dean patience, tried to show him what sex could be like if you took your time, and you didn’t rush. He smiles then, and nods, pulling his fingers back out of Dean and hovering over the boy.  
“Then, we’ll do this my way… I won’t give in… you’re going to have to be patient… and wait, Dean…”  
He licks his lips and brushes a hand across Dean’s cheek, marveling at the smooth skin there.  
“Can you do that?”  
Dean nods, breathless, and that’s all the permission that Cas needs. He leans in and kisses Dean slowly, tasting every inch of his mouth. Cas works like a slowly turning windmill, forces of nature driving him on in a natural movement, circling back around with his hands as they slide over Dean’s naked skin, caressing and massaging, gripping tight and letting go. He moans low, eyes shutting as Dean opens his mouth with a gasp, beckoning Cas even further in. Cas nips at Dean’s lower lip, feeling the plump flesh between his teeth give just slightly as he presses against it, the drag of teeth over skin slow and delicious. Cas moves his lips along Dean’s jawline, nipping there and breathing in his scent, words soft when he speaks.  
“You are so beautiful Dean…”, Cas whispers in his ear, licking along the shell and then slowly sucking the lobe into his mouth before nipping at it sharply, worrying it between his teeth.  
“…I love you…. and you’re mine now…”, the slight possessive tone is something that rarely comes up for Cas… but Dean brought it out in him. He wanted to see the boy grow up and out, explore the world and conquer everything he set his sights on, and then return home to him at night, to be thoroughly fucked and loved and taken care of. Cas moves lower, returning his hand to Dean’s entrance, finger circling the rim and dipping in, teasing, over and over again. He mouths down Dean’s neck to latch on at the crook, sucking a dark mark there, and thrusting two fingers inside the boy at the same time as his teeth wrap around a healthy portion of Dean’s neck and bite down firm, but don’t break the skin. He twists his fingers and slides his tongue down to dip into the hollow of Dean’s neck, tasting salty warm skin. Cas thrusts the fingers in, and crooks them, then drags them back out, pressing up and in so when they drag over his prostate it’s a slow, torturous movement, every ridge of his finger prints felt almost.  
Cas is achingly hard now, leaking into the bedspread, but he can’t stop. More than anything he wants to see Dean come apart again, beg him for release, beg Cas to be inside of him, to take him and make Dean his. His lips and tongue work down to a hard nub of a nipple, suck and graze teeth over it, then nibble and worry it between them. Cas straddles Dean then, and uses his other hand to slowly pump Dean’s erection, thumb gliding over the head, smearing precome down for slickness, timing everything together like the most complex clockwork, gears all moving as one.  
Cas moans in sympathy as he shoves a third finger inside Dean again and the boy cries out, hips bucking up off the bed. He twists his wrist on the downstroke over Dean’s cock, thumb pressing firm along the underside, along the vein he knew was there.  
“Do you want it Dean?”  
*  
It’s just what Dean had wanted. How he’d remembered it’d been. It’s slow and tantalizing, each movement, each faint brush of fingertips or lips against his skin equally painful as pleasurable. Dean is falling apart beneath the older man’s skillful hands, feeling his orgasm building already but holding it back. He loses track of time, so lost in Cas’ touches and the small moans he hums against his skin every now and then, just like he too is experiencing Dean’s pleasure at the very same time. Dean closes his eyes, his breath coming in ragged gasps and his hands grasp the bedsheet beneath in a desperate attempt to steady himself, to hold on to something.  
He hears Cas’ speaking through a haze of lust and bliss and when he opens his mouth to reply, he’s surprised by how calm his voice sounds, despite his current state.  
“Yes… god, I want.. I want you inside, Cas…”  
He opens his eyes then, looking up at Cas, who’s hovering above him, eyes on him like he couldn’t bear to miss a single emotion on his young lover’s face. Dean smiles then, licking his lips and taking a hold of Cas’ shoulders.  
“But first”, he says, sitting up without a warning and pushing Cas back on the bed, both of his legs on either of Castiel’s sides, pinning him down effectively “I gotta take care of you…”  
He looks down Castiel’s body, one of his hands trailing down over his chest, stomach and pelvis, feeling his lover’s eyes following his gaze and touch breathlessly. Dean licks his lips again, before shifting backwards slowls, lips mirroring his hands’ path with soft kisses and tugs of teeth against warm and sweaty skin. When Dean reaches his hips, he can hear Cas gasping and smiles to himself, as he lifts one of his lover’s legs to kiss the insides of his thigh teasingly.  
*  
Cas’ hips buck up, his body trembling with the need to be inside Dean again after far too long being apart. He arches his head back, breathing hard, panting almost, and fists his hands around the sheets under him.  
“Dean…”, Cas gasps, when Dean bites and licks over a spot on his inner thigh. His cock twitches, hips thrusting for friction they don’t find.  
“A..ah…”, he moans, and one of his hands comes down to grip the back of Dean’s neck, feeling the warm skin beneath thrum with life, blood pulsing through Dean almost as fast as Cas’ own.  
“…touch me….”, Cas says, and his tone of voice is a mixture between pleading and commanding, chest heaving as he tries to control his body, calm down enough to enjoy every touch, every look Dean gives him.  
*  
Dean enjoys the small sounds Cas is offering him, the slight tremor his touches cause and the delicious mixture of pleasure and annoyance on his beautiful face. He contemplates not giving in for just a moment but when he sees the look out of those blue eyes, he simply can not withstand. He drops his head to kiss the skin around the center of Castiel’s body for a few more seconds, nuzzling the dark hair down there, before brushing his lips ever so lightly over Castiel’s cock. By now he’s fully hard and leaking against his stomach and Dean takes a moment to appreciate the sight, then smiles up at his lover, his love, and takes his erection in one hand, guiding it towards his open, wet lips. The moment he wraps them around Castiel, the older man bucks underneath him, a strangled sound escaping his chapped lips and Dean moves in closer, taking in inch by inch but doing nothing more. His tongue is still, until he’s engulfed Castiel with hot, wet heat completely and his lover’s writhing beneath him, begging him to go on. So Dean does, finally, tongue dipping forward, sliding over the smooth underside, the clearly tangible vein, and up to his tip, licking off the few drops of precome and moaning as he tastes Cas on his tongue for the first time in weeks. It’s like heroine, like chocolate, something addictive, a drug Dean can’t get enough of and so he starts sucking, treasuring each and every drop of pearly white gold.  
*  
Castiel’s body shakes, his voice breaking out of his lips once again as Dean slides his beautifully hot, wet mouth over him. His entire body shook, hips arching up towards Dean over and over without control, until Dean had no other choice than to grip Cas’ hips in his hands and push him down into the mattress. Cas lets out a whimpering moan, eyes shutting, head thrown back.  
“G…god…..Dean-….p..please…”, he whines, voice raspy and hoarse, it felt so fucking good.  
He reaches down, hands slide through Dean’s short hair, blunt nails scratching over Dean’s scalp. Cas wanted release so bad, every slide of Dean’s tongue delicious and wet and scalding hot, enveloping Cas in volcanic pleasure.  
“W…want you Dean….nee…need to be inside you”, he whispers, back arching up, toes curling into the sheets.  
*  
Dean moans around Cas’ cock at the rough voice begging for even more pleasure, for mercy, for release. Dean isn’t used to this amount of power and the feeling of superiority makes him feel dizzy for a moment. He pushes his mouth down a few more times, tongue going crazy around Castiel’s erection, lips sucking around the tip once more, before he’s pulling back, one last lick over the sensitive slit, and sitting back on his knees. He feels Cas’ eyes on him, as he reaches up to moisten two of his fingers with his own tongue, before reaching around himself and pushing them inside. He closes his eyes at the sensation, both the physical movement of his fingers inside of him and the feeling of Cas watching and moans, head thrown back, throat bared. His knees go weak and he slumps backwards onto the mattress, legs spread and fingers pulling out, just to change the angle and push in again. He scissors them, spreading his entrance as wide as possible in this position and opens his eyes again, returning Castiel’s lustful gaze wantonly.  
“I’m yours, Cas”, he breathes, voice raw, barely more than a whisper and he lifts his hips, giving Cas an even better view “Come take me.”  
*  
Cas feels his heart stop, his breath hitch, all motion grinding to a halt as he watches Dean open himself up. He swears the Earth itself just stops fucking moving as Dean looks up at him, and speaks, his words so filthy and so right that Cas has to wrap a hand around the base of his cock to hold himself in check, to keep himself from coming right then and there.  
He groans and pulls Dean to him, kissing him again as he crawls on top of the boy, using his knees to spread Dean’s legs even wider. One hand goes fumbling for the lube as the other reaches between them to slowly jack Dean’s cock. Cas slicks himself quickly, grunting into the kiss before pulling back to look into Dean’s eyes.  
“…I love you, Dean. You are mine…. and tonight… even though I might fuck you until you pass out from the pleasure… know that with every stroke I’m making love to you.”  
Cas whispers it, his voice quiet but rough, unable to smooth his tone as he looks down at the most amazing man he’d ever met, body and soul, heart and mind.  
Cas lines himself up with Dean’s entrance, eyes locked on the boy’s as he wraps a hand around Dean’s waist, and holds him tight as he pushes forward. As always, Dean is so tight it’s almost unbelievable, every inch of the tight wet heart making Cas’ cock throb with want, with need.  
Now that he has him, Cas isn’t going to let go. Not of Dean, not of what they had.  
He shoves further inside of Dean, a low moan coming from his throat as he bottoms out inside of Cas.  
“Fuck, baby…”, he whispers, eyes shut for a moment as Cas leans forward, over Dean. God, It was so good. So fucking amazing.  
*  
Dean straight-out screams when Cas slides inside of him with almost no resistance and hits his prostate instantaneously. He bucks underneath the other man, Castiel’s promise still in the back of his mind. This feels like the most important thing he’s ever done, like the months of sleeping together had just been the longest fucking foreplay in history and this was it, this was what both of them had been working towards all this time. Dean spreads his legs as far as possible, until it almost hurts, lifting his hips to beckon Cas even deeper inside. His hands are shaking, as they reach for Castiel’s face and pull him down into an open-mouthed, breathless kiss, all sloppy tongues and wet heat but neither of them cares. They’re kissing and Cas is inside of him, filling the emptiness that had been there since Dean can remember and it’s almost enough to make him come right then and there, the sheer importance of this moment too overwhelming. He squeezes his eyes shut and wraps his legs around Cas’ body, pulling him in and holding him tight against his body, his lips searching for Cas’ once more. When he opens his lids again, Cas is looking at him out of dark, blue eyes, so full of wonder and love that it takes Dean’s breath away.  
“I love you”, he says and feels tears forming in the corners of his eyes, as his hands cup Castiel’s cheeks, thumbs brushing ever so lightly over the hot skin “Now… make me scream, Cas…”  
*  
Cas shudders at Dean’s words, whispers ‘I love you too’ back against his lips, and then captures them in a deep kiss as he rocks forward inside of Dean. A slow rhythm builds, Cas sliding out and then back in, long smooth strokes that push Dean’s hips up from the bed. Cas holds onto Dean’s hips tight, fucking into him, eyes staring into Dean’s and feeling everything.  
He feels every flicker of muscle through his body and Dean’s, the combined pants from them both and the sound of wet skin on wet skin the only sounds in the room. He arches and rolls his hips, angling himself just right to push against Dean’s prostate, striking it, over and over and over.  
“Dean,….g…god….so …beautiful…”  
He licks his lips and kisses Dean again, letting out a soft moan into the kiss as he pulls one of Dean’s legs up and over his shoulder, changing the angle which makes Dean even tighter.  
“Fuck….”, Cas breathes, eyes shutting and hips stuttering for just a moment. He pushes further, Dean’s lower back rising off the bed, and Cas’ hips snapping back, and then forward again, hard, thrusting fast into Dean, the rhythm picking up. Cas reaches between them, hand wrapping around Dean’s cock and stroking in time with his thrusts, thumb swirling around the head, the beaded wetness at the tip streaking down and speeding his hand.  
This moment is the moment Cas had been waiting for from the second he realized that he felt for Dean- that he loved him more than anything in the world. It’s beautiful beyond anything he’d ever thought was possible, representing everything that Dean was to him in an act, primal in the best ways and silken sweet in others.  
*  
It’s impossible to put in words how Dean feels. Cas is everywhere, holding him tight as he pushes inside his pliant body again and again, pace accelerating steadily, until his thrusts are almost brutal. Dean doesn’t mind though. His toes curl at the roughness of Castiel’s cock thrusting inside of him, at the softness of the feathery kisses he presses on Dean’s lips, showering him with all his love and devotion. Dean feels cherished in this moment, worshipped even and the realization makes his breath hitch in his throat. He’s crying out, when Cas hits his prostate again, feels tears mixing with sweat on his face, as he’s writhing beneath his lover, chasing complete rapture. He presses his back on the bed, lifting his hips in time to meet Castiel’s thrust, pushing them up to feel the sweet, slick slide of Cas’ hand on his cock. It’s so delicious he wants to cry and he feels his orgasm building up fast. His hands find Castiel’s then, where it’s wrapped around him, stilling him for a moment as he tries to form words in between gasped sobs.  
”..n-ot….yet”, he whispers, nails scraping over Castiel’s hand and up to hold his lower arm “…..wanna… wanna ride you…”  
*  
Cas freezes inside Dean, still in the moment as his brain registers the words, then supplies the mental image of Dean sliding up and down his cock, head thrown back, body covered in a gorgeous sheen of sweat. Cas swallows hard, then nods, breathless, and flips them over with very little difficulty; he wants this, he wants it bad.  
Cas’ hands find Dean’s waist as they turn, and when he’s completely on his back his cock has slipped out from inside Dean, breaking a whimper from Cas’ lips.  
“Dean-”  
He breaks off when Dean presses a hand over his mouth, shaking his head.  
“I’ll take care of you, Cas…”, he whispers, and the only thing Cas can do is tremble beneath him and wait, cock twitching and cooling in the night air.  
“…W…wait Dean…”  
Dean pauses from where his hand was wrapping around Cas’ cock, about to slide back home, as Cas reaches up to pull Dean down for a deep, hungry kiss.  
“…I’ll never get enough of this…enough of you…”, Cas breathes, eyes flickering from Dean’s lips up into the depths of Dean’s own, the starburst of greens more vibrant than a rain forest.  
“…I love you…and god help me, I don’t think I could ever stop loving you…”  
Cas cups the side of Dean’s face, thumb brushing over the cheekbone, licks his lips, throat tight around his words from the emotion swirling through him.  
“…Marry me, Dean… someday…..w-when it’s legal here…when you’re older, and done with school…”  
He looks into Dean’s eyes, his own searching, face hopeful and scared at the same time.  
“….I know…it’s early. I know-….I just….”, he takes a deep shaky breath in and lets it out, shutting his eyes, then opens them again and looks back into Dean’s eyes.  
“I love you…I want to spend every day with you. I want to see the world with you and draw your face every morning and make every recipe in every cookbook that Gabriel owns, and see you graduate and-…..I…just want you in my life Dean…for the rest of my life.”  
*  
Dean is about to sink down on Castiel’s body, guarding his lover back inside of him when the other man speaks. Through the haze of lust and frenzy Dean almost misses their meaning, their significance. His hand drops, letting go of Castiel’s cock, as he blinks back at him, eyes widening in nothing but shock and surprise. He sits back on his heels, sinking down on the mattress behind Castiel’s feet and just… staring back at him. If it weren’t for the look of sheer worry and fear on Castiel’s face, Dean would’ve guessed he misheard him, somehow mixed up his words with something like ‘I wanna fuck you until you pass out’… But Castiel is scared, Dean can see it, can feel it with every fibre of his being and without thinking, Dean sits back up, crawling over Castiel to press their foreheads together, hands coming up to the sides of his face, holding him gently.  
“Jesus, Cas”, he mutters, voice light and amused “How ‘bout a warning, next time?”  
He chuckles and when Cas still doesn’t speak, continuing to look up at him out of wide, blue eyes, Dean leans in to kiss him, lips pressing against his firmly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to put everything he has into the kiss.  
“You’re an idiot”, he then says, punctuating his words with another kiss against Cas’ forehead, his temple “and I love you.. and of course I’ll marry you!”  
He takes a deep breath, leaning back down to capture Castiel’s lips with his once more, this kiss being deeper, more meaningful than those before and lasting longer. When he pulls back, a smile is gracing his lips, impossibly moved by the older man’s courage to bring up such an important request. The smile becomes a grin then and Dean rubs his crotch against Cas’ once, eliciting a low moan from the other.  
“But can you please fuck me now? I need to come like.. yesterday…”  
He doesn’t wait for a reply though, positioning himself just right and sinking down onto Castiel’s erection, moaning at the throbbing piece of flesh breaching his entrance and filling him like he had craved it to.  
*  
Cas groans, head thrown back as Dean slides down on his cock, hands gripping Dean’s hips tight.  
“F..fuck Dean!”  
He shuts his eyes tight, a low moan breaking out of his throat as Dean slides to the bottom. It feels so good…so good to have Dean wrapped around him, vice like heat gripping him so hard. Cas pushes, moving Dean up on his cock, then lets him slide back down, groaning as each inch slides back inside.  
“Yesss..Dean….-..n..nghh…p..please…fu..fuck yourself…”  
His voice is hoarse, rough and dark, fingers gripping bruises into Dean’s hips. He bends his legs then, heels digging into the bed, and starts thrusting his hips up into Dean, fucking up into him hard, each slap of flesh on flesh loud and echoing in the bedroom. Cas groans, eyes on Dean’s face, thumbs brushing over the sharp jab of hipbones. He watches as Dean rocks over him, muscles in his body shifting, flickering beneath the skin. Dean is so fucking beautiful- so gorgeous like this. He was beautiful, every day, but like this? Dean is beyond hot like this, a wave of pleasure rushing over Cas’ body as he watches Dean writhe and grind on top of him.  
*  
He can feel Cas’ eyes on him the whole time, even when he shuts his eyes, unable to control himself with the combination of feeling, hearing and seeing anymore. He moves up, Cas’ cock sliding almost completely out of him and Dean waits, quietly counts to ten, before sinking back down, hard and abrupt, impaling himself, his whole body shuddering on top of Cas’. He’s almost sure he can hear his lover’s heart beating but maybe it’s just his own, Dean doesn’t know. He’s too far gone, lost in a frantic rhythm of pulling up and sinking down, rocking on top of his lover, circling his hips and making both of them scream with pleasure. His knees go weak after a while but he can’t stop, has to keep going, needs this feeling like air. He slowly lowers his upper body until it’s pressed flush against Castiel’s, their hearts beating in unison and Dean kisses him, once, hastily, lips parting soon for them to breathe.  
“C-Cas”, he mumbles then, against the crook of Castiel’s neck, his whole body trembling with need “I.. I’m so close, I…”  
*  
“Okay Dean… okay baby…”  
Cas flips them over again and wraps his arms around Dean, one around his back and one under his neck, holding the boy close as he starts thrusting again in earnest, hard and fast. Their stomachs squeeze together, creating wonderful friction that brushes over Dean’s cock, sweat slicking the way. Cas’ hips stutter, but he keeps going until he can feel Dean start to tighten down, and then he pulls back just slightly to look in the boy’s eyes, watching as the pupils dilate, Dean’s mouth goes slack and his jaw drops open, his head gets thrown back as Cas thrusts in hard, brutal, quick pounding thrusts inside of Dean as he comes, Cas’ name a whisper on his lips. Dean’s hands rake white lines down Castiel’s shoulders and upper arms, and his hole tightens around Cas in increments until Cas can’t even move more than an inch either way; when Dean sobs out, “Castiel!”, Cas comes, teeth gritted, muscles taut through his entire body, hissing breath exhaling as he pulses inside his love.  
They ride their orgasms together, Cas slowly rocking in Dean until they’re both completely spent, unable to move, and Cas collapses on top of Dean then, panting, breath coming in fast shallow puffs against Dean’s sweat slick neck.  
There’s silence for a moment, a long still moment of complete relaxation, where no one needed say or do anything because it’s the opposite of awkward. This is how they were always meant to be, wrapped up in one another, complete and sated just to lie there, and bask in the afterglow.  
Cas slowly moves out of Dean to lie beside him, staring, until Dean shifts onto his side and looks at Cas as well. The slow smiles that build on their faces are mirrored, exactly the same not in looks but in meaning. Cas whispers two words, and then brings Dean’s hand up to kiss the knuckles, never taking his eyes off of Dean’s.  
“Hi,…fiance.”  
*  
And - just like that - Dean is crying. It should be embarrassing, affecting his pride or whatever crap he had kept telling himself all those years. But all Dean can do is crawl closer, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s body and holding him, as quiet sobs escape his sore throat.  
“I hate you so much”, he gasps and tears run down his face, dripping on his lips and Dean shudders at the salty taste for a moment, before speaking again “Stop being so fucking sweet or I swear I’m gonna… I dunno… have a seizure or somethin’…”  
He laughs quietly and is relieved when Cas tunes is, hands tightening around his shoulders, as Dean calms down slowly. His whole body is still trembling and the semen-wet slide of their hips against each other should be gross but simply isn’t. When Dean pulls back a bit after what seems like eternity, they’re both smiling and Dean’s hands come up to cup Castiel’s face ever so gently, eyes taking in every detail in complete awe.  
“I never thought I’d actually.. you know…. want this… marrying someone…..”  
He feels a blush creep on his cheeks but doesn’t turn his head or tries to cover it. Cas knows him, had seen him inside and out and Dean intended to have no more secrets from now on.  
“But I really do…. I want you, Cas.”  
*  
Cas presses his lips to Dean’s, letting out a shuddering sigh.  
“….I think it’s obvious how much I want you…by now…”  
He smiles against Dean’s lips, then looks up into his eyes, his own shifting just slightly, as if he can’t figure out just where to look, this close to one another.  
“…From the moment I met you, you’ve been like a force of nature…tearing my world apart from the inside out…You wrecked everything that I had built up-” Cas presses a finger to Dean’s lips to silence him, knowing he was going to protest, and continues with his soft spoken speech.  
“You wrecked it all, and I will spend every day, of the rest of my life, thanking you for that. I wasn’t in love…I’d never been in love…until you, Dean. I was just doing what my Father told me to do…find a girl, get married, have children…be the good son…the one who didn’t disappoint the family just for being true to himself.”  
He presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead and wraps his arms around him.  
“I didn’t know passion until I met you. I don’t know how I lived before this…it’s like the world before was incomplete…dull, and you were the last puzzle piece I was waiting to find. You make everything so much more chaotic and crazy and breath taking…every moment I turn the corner and there’s something new for me to discover about you…about myself…”  
Cas pulls back again, brushing a hand over Dean’s cheek, smiling bright, his own eyes wet with tears now.  
“I can’t wait to grow old with you…”  
*  
Dean has to swallow, the lump in his throat as big as a tennis ball by now and he closes his eyes reluctantly, pressing closer, feeling his own heart beating hastily, like a caged butterfly.  
“Damn you”, he mumbles, pressing small kisses to Castiel’s chest, his collarbone “you and your… fucking sweet talk…”  
He breathes out quietly, eyelids fluttering and eyelashes brushing against Castiel’s warm skin, tickling just lightly.  
“How did we end up here?”, he then says, voice quiet and wondering and he tilts his head back, looking up into Castiel’s questioning eyes “You were supposed to be a one-night-stand, you know? I never really… had more than that before…”  
He shakes his head softly, frowning and biting his lip as he continues.  
“I-….. I should’ve know that this is more way earlier… I never slept twice with anyone.. ever….. but I just couldn’t get you out of my head and….. man, if I’d believed in this crap I’d say you bewitched me!”  
He chuckles, leaning up to kiss Castiel’s eyelids, one at a time.  
“Your eyes alone.. Jesus Christ….. I could come from just the way you’re looking at me sometimes…..”  
*  
Cas laughs, a soft tinkling from deep in his chest, and takes one of Dean’s hands in his.  
“Hey…you’re the one who seduced me…remember?”  
He intertwines their fingers, smiling gently and laying his head back down on the bed, just watching Dean for a moment.  
“…Let’s shower…dress…then go get some breakfast…I want pancakes…and IHOP is open 24 hours…”  
He leans in and kisses Dean softly, brushing his fingers down the boy’s jawline, whispering his words.  
“Just don’t want this night to end…not yet.”  
Cas stands up and tugs Dean to his feet, leaning in to kiss him again, slow and sweet, then slips away out of his arms and walks to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder with a cheeky grin once.  
*  
Smiling to himself, Dean gets up as well, wincing shortly at the flash of pain this movement causes but quickly following Cas into the bathroom. Although Sam isn’t here, Dean locks the door, before turning around to push Cas against the shower wall, hot water raining down on them and washing away the traces of their love -making. They caress each other softly, tracing their bodies while their lips are touching, sending jolty of pleasure and bliss through their entire system. Dean sucks Cas off once more, before they step out of the shower and dry off each other. They leave the house wrapped in scarves and thick jackets, the morning air still more than a little chilly and when Dean takes Castiel’s hand in his, letting both of them disappear in his jacket’s pocket, he can practically feel Cas’ smile. They choose a table by the window, eating pancakes with maple syrup and scrambled eggs, while watching as the slowly rising sun reflects in each other’s eyes.  
For the next week Dean feels like dreaming with his eyes open. He had always assumed that their affair, relationship… whatever it had been before, had been presumably the best time in his life so far. But being able to actually be with Castiel, to hold his hand and to kiss him whenever and how long he pleased is something completely different. They’re still scared of getting caught, now more than ever, so they have to refrain from meeting at school. But whenever Cas shows up in the afternoon, standing breathless and almost glowing in front of Dean’s apartment door, Dean knows that it’s worth it.


	17. Chapter 17

On January 24, Dean’s birthday, Sam wakes him with freakin apple pie. It’s a Tuesday and Dean doesn’t really have the time to show Sam just how much he appreciates the gesture, but he guesses the tight hug and ruffling his hair does the trick. He gets to school and after a few half-hearted birthday wishes from some classmates and random flailing girls, Dean hurries to the art room. There’s already some students in the back of the room, so Dean doesn’t really have the privacy he’d preferred but still he can’t hesitate to stop at the teacher’s desk and smiling, putting down the sketchpad and tapping his finger on it meaningfully. He makes his way over to his seat, watching out of the corner of his eye as Cas opens up the book and finds the new page, the one which has ‘All I want for my birthday is to fuck you’ scribbled all over it. Dean grins as he sees Castiel’s cheeks flush and quickly averts his eyes, busying himself over some notes for Biology.  
*  
Cas shuts the notebook, the one they’d shared since the beginning of this, and puts it away in a drawer he’d cleared out for it. He’d installed his own lock to the door, and given Dean one of the keys, so even if Cas wasn’t there he could leave the notebook in a safe place beyond prying eyes and curious hands. They’d spent the last month rebuilding the book, Dean wanting to take the ruined pages out, but Cas stopping him with a gentle hand and the shake of his head. ‘It’s part of us…our history. Leave it…It’s ….a reminder. To trust in one another, and ask before assuming.’ Dean had frowned, part of himself still angry for what he’d done, but Cas had kissed him, and then sunk to his knees in Dean’s bedroom, and made the frown disappear with a few talented kisses.  
Now it’s the morning of Dean’s birthday, his 19th, Cas now knows. They plan to go out for dinner, all four of them, both pairs of brothers, to Dean’s favorite burger joint in the city. It’s a place called Pearl’s Deluxe Burgers, but everyone just calls it Pearl’s. Now though, Cas would have a hard time waiting until after dinner to get Dean alone… and he’s seriously considering going home ‘sick’ and seeing if another teacher could cover his lessons for the day…and yanking Dean out of his classes.  
They hadn’t spoken about Dean topping since Cas mentioned it over a month ago… and he had honestly thought that was the end of it. The idea of giving himself over like that to the boy…no…man, Cas needed to stop thinking of Dean as a boy, as he in no way resembled one anymore. In the four months they’d know one another, such a short time it was, Dean had blossomed from an insecure boy who covered it with false bravado and meaningless sex to feel wanted into a self condifent man who had a future, even if there were no definite plans just yet.  
Cas locks the drawer and puts his keys back in his pocket, then stands up and starts the lesson as the bell rings and the last stragglers wander in.  
“Alright every body! As usual…we have a birthday today, so today is going to be a little lax. Joanna, bless her heart, brought cupcakes from her Mother’s restaurant-”  
“They didn’t sell well, so hopefully you guys like peanut butter chocolate…”, Jo smiles around the room, and locks eyes with Dean, the smile growing just a bit fonder.  
In the past month Joanna had been making small nudges at Dean about Castiel… it seemed she had known about Dean and Mr. Novak. Or at least she figured it out from the closeness between the two that only she seemed aware of, or maybe it was the frequent matching hickies on their necks that Cas tried to hide with high collared shirts, and Dean wore like a brand. Either way, she had hinted that she knew…and was actually okay with it, even proud of Dean. Like most of his teachers and friends, Joanna had noticed the positive change in Dean this year- from slacker to easy A’s in almost all his subjects. She knew that it was Dean doing the work, but in her mind attributed the change to Castiel’s influence; even if she was wrong and they were just platonic friends, she knew it was Mr. Novak who had helped Dean make the change from someone who had no passion about anything, to someone who glowed with pride when something he made was admired.  
Cas smiles at Joanna, an indulgent broad smile, and nods to her to let her know she could start passing the cupcakes out.  
“We’re going to watch a movie, Fantasia, because it’s a classic and everyone should see it at least once in their lives, and then I’ll give you guys your assignments alright?”  
He looks around the room and smiles at the happy faces he sees, then locks eyes with Dean. There’s the faintest hint of mischief in Dean’s eyes and Cas can’t help the slight quirk of his upper lip and the huff of concealed laughter that comes out as a puff of exhaled breath. ‘Brat’, he thinks.  
*  
Dean leans back into his chair, biting his lower lip, his eyes following Castiel as he sets up the video projector. Cas had been at his place just yesterday and to say the evening had been ‘action-packed’ would be the understatement of the century, but Dean already missed his lover like hell. On the other hand he’d never seend Fantasia and from what Cas had been telling him about it, he knows he wants to see it… it’s something that should’ve been part of his childhood but never had been and Dean wants to change that. So instead of getting up and outside, waiting for Cas to pin him against the wall to suck him off, Dean watches the movie. It’s not as good as it would’ve been if it had been only him and Cas, back on his couch at home, the place they’d first really slept together outside the club, holding hands and eating chips and popcorn. Dean likes the movie and when it’s over he forgets about the rest of the students for a moment, beaming at Cas through the classroom, his voice more grateful than you would expect a student thanking his teacher for showing a movie.  
They meet up at Dean’s place in the evening, Sam practically storming down the stairs, when Cas and Gabe ring the doorbell and Dean following him, chuckling and shaking his head. They ride in their usual constellation and once Dean found a parking lot two blocks from Pearl’s and Dean and Cas made their way to the restaurant, they get inside and over to one of the corner booths. Dean had announced to treat everyone tonight and he wouldn’t take ‘no’ as an answer. He’s part annoyed, part moved when Sam gives him a small box filled with mix tapes he’d made. Years ago they had agreed on Sam not giving a birthday present to Dean, as his birthday was so shortly after Christmas but the little bitch just wouldn’t listen. He hugs him anyway, packing away the box and smiling at his brother.  
*  
Gabriel presents Dean with a weekend trip for two to a bed and breakfast in Napa.  
“It’s at a friend’s place, so it was practically free…but I figured you and Cas could use the time away, to yourselves.”  
He smiles and pats Castiel’s shoulder, who looks a little astonished at Gabriel’s gift, and blushes. Cas smiles and licks his lips, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring. It’s a unique ring, a silverish metal with striations and pits, flashes of different shades of color through out it.

 

Cas flushes as he takes Dean’s hand and slips the ring onto his ring finger, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding when the ring actually fits.  
He smiles at the look on Dean’s face, and holds up his own left hand, showing a ring made of the same unique metal, with a slightly different pattern that comes from the metal naturally.  
“It’s um… it’s made from a meteorite, Seymchan Meteorite… it’s a special metal that comes from a meteorite that fell in Russia…”  
He flushes again and licks his lips, looking up into Dean’s eyes.  
“I thought it appropriate…”  
Cas shrugs gently, then Gabriel sniffles from across the table, and Cas looks up to see his older brother actually tearing up a little.  
“Shut up, Cassy!…you’re the one that’s all sentimental, with your Northern Star stuff and buying meteorite rings! I’m allowed to get a little teary that my baby brother’s getting married…”  
Cas snorts with laughter and hides his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. He gets over it eventually, and looks up at Dean with a smile.  
“…Do you like it?”  
*  
Dean watches the scene, feeling kind of like a bystander, like he’s watching a movie or some random people. His gaze drops from Castiel’s hesistant smile to the ring he had just slipped on Dean’s finger and for a moment he feels like the silver band is weighing him down somehow. He has to take a deep breath and look back up, before a smile finds its way on his lips.  
“You’re such a wuss, you know that?”  
His words are teasing but there’s an underlying gentleness in them, showing Cas that he’s not serious. He reaches out his hand, the one with the ring on it, and pulls Cas closer, pressing his lips to his in a long, affectionate kiss. He hears Gabriel whistling and Sam laughing and when he feels like neither of them can hear him, he whispers “I love it. And I can’t wait to be yours completely..”  
*  
Cas smiles and ducks his head slightly, blushing a soft pink. Gabriel turns to Sam and pretends to gag, grinning as Cas rolls his eyes from across the table.  
“Hey kiddo, you want to get out of here, let the love birds have the rest of the night to themselves? There’s a new candy store that just opened up on Pier 39 that I’ve been wanting to raid…”  
He turns to look at Dean and winks.  
“I’ll take care of your brother, you take care of mine.”  
Cas’ eyes widen as he looks between Sam and Gabriel, watching the two stand up. Gabriel makes an exasperated sound and squints his eyes at Cas before his jaw drops.  
“Oh, come ON Cas, not like that! Je-sus…”  
Gabriel and Sam leave the restaurant, bumping shoulders with one another, as Sam’s growth spurt in the last few months already made him as tall as Gabriel, and still growing. It’s weird to watch them leave, they look far closer in age than anyone would guess, Gabriel not looking over 28, and Sam already looking 18. Cas smiles fondly as he watches them leave, then turns back to Dean, tilting his head to one side.  
“Happy Birthday, Dean.”  
*  
Gabriel is lucky that a) Dean is in such a good mood and b) he’s actually not that opposed to the idea of having Cas for himself for the rest of the night. So even though he still doesn’t like the fact that his technically heterosexual, underage brother spends time alone with a flamboyantly gay and obviously interested man in his thirties, he doesn’t stop the two of them leaving. Instead he reaches out his hand, taking Cas’ and intertwining their fingers.  
“So…”, Dean begins but falls silent again, as he realizes what he’s trying to say.  
It’s not like there should be any uncertainties or doubts left, much less should he be embarrassed to say out loud what he’s thinking - and yet the change from regular fuck buddies to… whatever it is what they are now has Dean searching for the right words, rather than just blurt out his wish, his demand.  
“You wanna.. hrm… go to my place ‘n.. I dunno….. celebrate?”  
He feels his hand twitching and quickly tightens his grip around Castiel’s, biting his lip as he looks over at the other man expectantly.  
*  
Cas flushes even darker, eyes wide, breathless when he says, “God yes.”  
He stands up and waves his hand for the check, which comes quite quickly, and Cas has never been more thankful of the prompt service at Pearl’s than at that moment. He bites his lower lip as Dean practically drags them both from the restaurant and out to the Impala, parked two blocks away. Cas gets into the car, and is barely buckled before Dean grabs the back of his neck and hauls him halfway across the front seat for a crushing kiss. Cas melts into it, one hand coming up to lightly grip Dean’s, thumb rubbing across the back of it.  
They part, both a little breathless, and smile almost simultaneously.  
“Get us to your apartment, don’t break any laws, but I won’t be terribly upset if you speed a little.”  
Cas kisses Dean again, and looks up into his eyes, Cas’ own blue ones lust glazed and half closed with want.  
*  
It’s nothing less but torture having to concentrate on traffic laws and watch out for pedestrians, while Cas is sitting only a few feet away, his body turned towards Dean and so close that all he wants is to reach over and devour him. He slams the breaks, tires screeching, and practically jumps out of the car, once they’re in front of the apartment. They make their way inside and in the elevator quickly and the moment the doors close, Dean is pressing Castiel flush against the closest wall, kissing him like he’s drowning, like sucking the air out of Castiel’s lungs is the only way for him to breathe. They stop only involuntarily, wenn the elevator reaches their destined floor and Dean practically yanks Cas outside and drags him over to his apartment. They’re just barely inside, when Dean starts stripping, pulling his shirt and undershirt over his head and tossing them somewhere out of sight, his fingers starting to unbutton Castiel’s shirt in record time, then travelling downwards to unzip his pants. He’s on his knees seconds later, hands pulling down the pants, as he mouths at Castiel’s cock, still coated with his underwear. He breathes hot against the thin fabric, feeling Cas shiver against him and smiling triumphantly.  
“Say you want me, Cas”, he whispers, kissing the naked skin of Castiel’s legs, biting softly there, before returning his lips to suck at his covered erection again.  
*  
Cas lets out a whining moan, hands finding Dean’s spiked hair and gripping it, head arched back as he whimpers. He’d been hard since the moment Dean looked at him in the restaurant, after their brothers had left.  
“Please Dean… w..want you so bad…”  
He rolls his hips, bumping Dean’s face with his cock, inhaling a hissed breath through his teeth. Cas had dreamt of this moment since he read it in the notebook earlier that morning, day dreamed all the way through his classes and had to jack off twice in the teacher’s bathroom. It had been so hard not to pull Dean from his classes, force him to take them home and just take Cas then and there, but he had known waiting would be worth it. Dean’s just as strung out as he is, perhaps more so, and god if the boy isn’t all muscle, toned from basketball and gym class.  
He shudders and feels his knees go a little weak until Dean grips his hips with his hands.  
“Please Dean, need it…”  
*  
As much as Dean enjoys having Cas begging for more, he isn’t really in the position to wait much longer himself. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of Castiel’s shorts, pulling them down and taking his leaking cock into one hand, stroking the base of it experimentally. Licking his lips he dips his head forward, tongue darting out to lap up the drop of precome there, before he opens his mouth, lips wrapping around Castiel completely. He can feel Cas’ body twitching, his knees shaking and puts a hand on the small of his back to steady him. He starts sucking then, his tongue and lips working on the older man’s erection eagerly, his teeth dragging over his length every now and then. He’s sucked off his lover countless times now, so he knows when he has to stop, when he’s driven Cas far enough to come. He pulls back with a lascivious, wet sound, eyes half lidded as he looks up at his lover. He gets up then, going ahead and guiding Cas over to his bedroom, where he pushes him on the bed. Once he’s sure of Castiel’s eyes on himself, Dean lets his hands travel over his naked upper body slowly, fingers stopping only seconds to tease his nipples, stroke over his chest and stomach, before they find his pants. He steps out of them quickly then, climbing on the bed and hovering above Castiel for a few breathless moments, before leaning down to kiss him again. He sits back then, trembling hands reaching for the nightstand and pulling out a pack of condoms and lube. Although they’ve did it witout protection a few times, he’s not sure how Cas prefers it and wants to… needs to give him this choice.  
*  
When Gabe unlocks the door of his apartment, Sam feels more excited than he probably should be. There’s something between them, of that he’s 100 % sure. But Gabriel is 31 and Sam’s 14 - and most of all Sam is straight. He’s had a few girlfriends so far - Jessica, who’d moved away in first grade and Ruby, who’d broke his heart by cheating on him just a year ago - and he’d never felt attracted to anyone of his own gender before. He doesn’t even really know what it is about Gabriel. Truth be told, he’s not the most handsome or beautiful man he’s ever met - but there’s something about him that Sam just can’t help but being fascinated about. He’s funny and clever and he’s charming as fuck. So even though Sam knows it’s weird and critical, he realizes that he has feelings for this strange man. He puts down the bag of sweets on the couch table, as Gabriel strips off his coat and walks over to the CD player. He winks, waving with the Spice Girls CD Sam had made fun of the first time he’d visited here, then shakes his head, putting in some other CD. The moment Sam hears the familiar, husky voice, he’s laughing out loud.  
“Lady Gaga, huh?”, he comments, giving Gabe a thumbs up.  
Cas reaches out with a strangely calm hand and places it on top of Dean’s, looking up into Dean’s eyes.  
“…I think we’ve established that we’re okay…”  
He reaches up and wraps his hand around the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him down for a slow, sensual kiss. Cas’ voice is a whisper when he speaks.  
“I just want to feel you… just you…no barriers..”  
Cas slides a hand down Dean’s stomach to wrap loosely around his cock, watching as Dean’s eyes widen, then narrow slightly, licks his lips at the hiss that escapes through Dean’s teeth.  
*  
Gabriel rolls his eyes at Sam and walks over to plop down on the couch, grabbing a salt water taffy from the bag and unwrapping it before popping it into his mouth.  
“Don’t diss the Mama Monster…she may be crazy, but she’s a crazy genius.”  
He lounges back against the back of the couch, watching as Sam walks around the living room he was already so familiar with.  
He and Sam had been doing this at least once a week since their brothers introduced them; they would just get together, listen to music, talk, and watch movies. It often ended with them cuddled on the couch, talking in whispers, and Gabriel was still in disbelief that the tall boy in front of him with the quickly forming muscles and broad charismatic smile was only 14. It seemed so unfair, like god had shown him the perfect present, then told him ‘No no no Gabriel, you have to wait four years to unwrap this one!’.  
So Gabriel waited, impatiently, and had daydreams and fantasies that would probably get him thrown into jail if anyone ever knew. But he had yet to even kiss Sam, and honestly doesn’t even know if Sam wants to kiss him, to be with him…or if he’s just glad for the attention of an older male who’s, in Sam’s words, ‘pretty cool, for an old guy’.  
*  
The initial touch is cool and takes Dean by surprise and he closes his eyes for just a second, before opening them again to watch as Cas starts jacking him slowly. He can’t quite decide whether to watch the slow, deliberate movements of Castiel’s hand or return the look out of hungry, lust-clouded, blue eyes. After another short stretch of time, Dean puts his hand on Castiel’s, stilling him and then moving down slowly, his mouth finding one of his nipples. He stops for a moment, lips wrapping around the hardened bud and sucking gently, drinking in the soft moan this elicits from Cas. His hand slip in between Castiel’s legs, spreading them carefully but determinedly. He grabs the lube, coating one of his fingers with an enormous amount, before reaching around his lover, tip of his finger carefully prodding against his entrance. He searches for Cas’ eyes, nervousness and worry blatant on his face - but Cas just smiles and that’s all it take for Dean to overcome his doubts and push in his finger, slowly, gingerly.  
*  
Sam lets his gaze wander over the books on the shelf above the CD player. He’d been at Gabe’s place just a week ago and there are already at least 10 new books. He chuckles, shaking his head and keeps walking, his gait slack, hips swaying in the rhythm of the music. ‘Paparazzi’ ends and when Sam hears the first few beats of ‘Alejandro’ he swirls around looking at Gabe, who’s watching him from the couch, a bottle of beer in his hand. Sam makes his way over to the couch, snagging the bottle from Gabriel’s hand, but waiting a moment to see if he would try to stop him - which he doesn’t.  
Even if he’d never drank alcohol before, basically Sam knows that you can’t get drunk from just one sip. So when he puts the bottle back down on the coffee table after emptying half of it and feels a little light-headed and woozy, he knows he can’t be possibly drunk. Maybe a bit tipsy…. yeah, that’s it… Gabe is still watching him and Sam can’t figure out the look on his face, is way to busy staying on his feet. He turns around again and for a second he loses balance, view getting blurry as he stumbles forward and lands on something soft. Gabriel is gasping below him and when Sam opens his eyes again, their faces are only inches apart.  
“You got… really cool eyes…..”, he says and man, he really has to be the person with the lowest alcohl tolerance ever cause there’s no way he would’ve ever said something stupid like this if he were sober.  
He also doesn’t know if he would’ve leant in and brushed his lips against a 17 years older man that easily but he’s doing it and the touch feels like sunlight and fireworks and everything good he’s ever experienced.  
*  
Cas bites his lower lip and lets his head fall back onto the bed, a soft ‘mmm’ sound coming from between his closed lips. It feels… strange… not good, not bad, just different. He relaxes under Dean’s touch, shifting on the bed to widen his legs, and lets Dean’s finger slide in even deeper. Cas swallows hard when Dean brushes just over something inside him, eyes widening slightly.  
“Dean…”, he whispers, but Dean just grins, and kisses him hard as he presses a second finger home inside Cas. This one stings, and Cas hisses, gripping Dean’s upper arm tight and willing himself to relax again, breathing in deep, long breaths.  
“…I…I’m okay…”  
He tilts his hips and that lets his lover’s fingers slide deeper, bringing a whimper from Cas’ lips.  
*  
Gabriel had chuckled when Sam had stolen his beer, wondering if the boy would realize from taste alone that it was one of the highest percentage of alcohol beers he’d found… Probably not, because it doesn’t taste like it is, which is why Gabriel likes it. He arches a brow though, when the teen starts dancing around his living room to ‘Alejandro’, taking large swigs of the beer. Before long, Sam was looking a little woozy, and Gabe was about to suggest he sit down, when he found himself with a rather large Winchester pressing him bodily into the couch, empty beer bottle dangling and then falling from his fingers onto the floor.  
‘eyes…’, is all Gabriel manages to hear over the thumping of his own heart, and then he has to take a quick, surprised inhale because Sam’s lips are on his, and oh GOD, the boy is kissing him….  
Gabriel swallows hard, holding still for just a moment, but then Sam slides his tongue out of his mouth and brushes it over Gabriel’s lower lip, and fuck where did the kid learn to do that? That’s all it takes for Gabriel to kiss back, one hand gripping the side of Sam’s shirt at his waist, the other sliding up to tangle in the teen’s hair, a soft moan of desire, need and want escaping Gabriel’s lips as he opens them up to Sam, kissing back for all he’s worth.  
It feels like fire, licking up his spine, pooling deep in his low belly and igniting the thoughts he’d been keeping to himself, hiding in the dark recesses of his mind under a box labeled ‘do not open’. But Sam had, with a touch of his wet tongue, he’d opened that box and fuck if Gabriel could deny wanting him anymore.  
“Sam…”, he gasps, and rolls his hips up toward the teen.  
*  
He’s only worried for a split second, then Cas is relaxing around him again. It’s wondrous, watching his lover experience this for the first time. Dean isn’t the most practised top but he’s done it a few times, as opposed to Cas who’s doing this for the first time ever. Dean swallows about a lump of nervousness in his throat and pushes his fingers in again, twisting and crooking them, fingertips just gently grazing over Castiel’s prostate. The way the older man writhes beneath him, hips bucking and eyes widening, is delicious and Dean does it again. Cas is fully hard now, cock pressing against his stomach and painting it with slick drops of precome. When Dean withdraws his fingers, Castiel mewls and Dean smiles at the adorable sound, leaning down to capture his lips with his, kissing him until they’re both breathless.  
“You ready, baby?”, he whispers against his lover’s kiss-swollen lips, licking and biting them gently.  
*  
Sam gasps, his lips leaving Gabriel’s for just a moment, when the older man’s hips roll up and press their crotches against each other. It’s unexpected but oh-so-good and Sam’s hands grip Gabriel’s neck, pulling him in again, crashing their mouths in desperate desire. Their tongues tangle and despite Gabe being older and more skilled in this, Sam wins this fight, growling into the other man’s mouth as he drinks in his soft moans. One of his hands leaves where it had gripped Gabriel’s neck, sliding over his chest and stomach, down to where his growing errection is pressing against the confines of his pants. A moan escapes his lips, when his fingers find the hardness, ghosting over it just barely and when Gabriel bucks up underneath him, Sam smiles against his lips, continuing to kiss him even harder.  
*  
Cas nods, wordless, mouth shut as he looks up at Dean. There’s the tiniest bit of nervousness on his face, but overall, he’s calm and absolutely ready for this.  
“Yes….yes Dean…”  
He wraps his fingers around the back of Dean’s neck and pulls him in for another kiss.  
“I trust you…just, go slow Dean…”  
Cas smiles then, and lies back on the bed, hands thrown above his head, back arched just slightly.  
*  
Gabriel’s breath catches in his throat as they kiss, and then Sam’s clever hand slides down and brushes, caresses over his erection. He moans softly into Sam’s mouth, and then pulls him even closer, parting his legs to let Sam lie down, their thighs slotting together and making their hips line up, cocks hard lines in their pants.  
‘Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh….caught in a bad ro-mance….’  
Gabriel’s mind stills, his body freezing as the words slowly register.  
‘Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh….caught in a bad ro-mance….’  
He looks up at the boy above him, eyes lust and alcohol glazed, breath coming in shallow pants. The 14 year old boy, whose older brother had trusted him with keeping Sam safe…and here Gabriel was, getting him tipsy and making out with him.  
“….Shit…Sammy…”  
Gabriel scrambles out from underneath of Sam, falling off the couch and pulling away until his back hits the coffee table a few feet away. He stares at Sam for a moment, breath coming fast, before shaking his head and burying his face in his hands.  
“Fuck…FUCK.”  
*  
The sight is breathtaking, amazing in every way and for a second there Dean hesitates to move, scared of destroying the fragile beauty of this moment. Then his hands are on Castiel’s hips, one of them reaching for a pillow to stuff underneath his lover’s hips, as the other slides in between his parted legs, pushing them apart even more and spreading lube over his twitching entrance. They share one more look and Dean angles himself just right, the tip of his cock nudging against Castiel’s hole. And then he’s pushing inside. The feeling of absolute warmth, of incredible, wet tightness is almost too much and Dean has to close his eyes, as he moves further, inch by inch disappearing inside of his lover. He goes as slow as he can, and as soon as the initial overwhelming sensation is over, he opens his eyes to look for the smallest hint of pain on Castiel’s face. It’s there, of course, and Dean feels guilty, as Castiel’s features contort in agony.  
”..sh*shhh”, Dean hears himself saying, breathing against Castiel’s ear, as he stills inside of him, not daring to move further ” ‘s gonna be okay, baby..promise….”  
He waits another moment, then Cas’ face relaxes just the faintest bit and Dean bites his lip, starting to move again. When he bottoms out inside of Castiel, he feels as if he’d walked a hundred miles or climbed a mountain, beads of sweat on his forehead and upper body, his head aching with concentration.  
“I’m sorry, Cas, ‘m sorry……”  
He doesn’t know where this came from but suddenly he feels hot tears of guilt forming in the corners of his eyes, the view of Cas writhing beneath him hurting almost physically and he regrets even mentioning this to Cas at all.  
*  
It all happens so fast and when Gabe moves backwards, away from him, Sam isn’t sure what the reason for this reaction was. He straightens up, pushing the long strands of hair out of his eyes, blinking in confusion over to where Gabe is crouching. Licking his lips, Sam gets down on his knees, crawling towards the other man but stopping a good 10 feet from him.  
“What’s the matter?”, he says and is surprised by how calm and composed, although rougher than usual, his voice sounds “Did… did I do something wrong?”  
*  
Cas arches his back to pull Dean in even further, the sting and stretch of his first time delicious, because even though it hurts, it’s Dean that’s doing it. He reaches up and wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him down and into a soft kiss. Cas kisses him slowly, building up the passion again and wiping away the tears that were rolling down Dean’s cheeks. When he speaks his voice is soft, deep and gravelly, but gentle.  
“Dean….Dean…stop crying….”  
He pauses and looks into Dean’s eyes, breathing slow.  
“….Baby, what’s wrong?”  
*  
Gabriel shakes his head and scrubs his hands over his face and up into his hair, raking fingers through it to pull it back.  
“…I can’t….We….We can’t do this Sam….We-…I made a promise to Dean….I…”  
He growls in frustration and stands up, pants tenting at the front from his obvious arousal, and he palms his dick through them, hissing at the friction but trying his best to ignore it as he adjusts himself.  
“…You’re fourteen…You’re FOUR-FUCKING-TEEN, and I just…I can’t…I’m 31, and even if you look 18, they’d still throw my ass in jail for even touching you….I just…I can’t be that guy, Sam…”  
Gabriel swallows hard around the lump in his throat, stopping his pacing back and forth in the room to look over at Sam, eyes sad, jaw tight.  
“…I want you, so bad….I can feel it in my fucking bones how much I want you….but-…I just can’t…”  
He shuts his eyes and takes a slow inhale and exhale, visibly calming.  
“…I won’t be that guy Sammy…that perv that everyone shields their kids from when he comes down the street……don’t make me be that guy, please…”  
Gabriel’s begging now, back to the opposite wall as he stares at the object of his desires, Sam’s skin still flushed, lips ripe and ready for the picking…he was so beautiful, but so young. Gabe averts his gaze and clenches his hands in the fabric of his jeans, leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit with his knees in his chest. His voice is wrecked when he speaks, raw in his throat with emotion.  
“…I’m sorry…I….I fucked up.”  
*  
The kiss is tender, Cas’ lips just pressing gingerly against Dean’s when at the same time this simple gesture says so much more. Another soft sigh escapes Dean’s lips as he returns the kiss and then looks back down into his lover’s eyes.  
“I-..I hurt you I…. I never should’ve asked you to do this….”  
He shifts slightly, still fully inside his lover’s body but not being able to cherish it, just feeling miserable and guilty and even though he wants to pull back, out, stop hurting Castiel, he somehow just can’t do that either.  
“I love you, Cas….. I’m sorry…”  
*  
Sam watches the older man getting up and walking over to the opposite side of the room, bringing as much distance as possible in between the two of them. How was it possible that he had been feeling light-footed and dizzy with want and happiness just mere seconds ago - when all he’s feeling right now is miserable and confused.  
“Gabe…”, he says, the words dying somewhere on the way and he has to clear his throat before speaking again “I’m..so sorry, Gabriel.. I…. I didn’t think, I’m sorry, I just…..”  
He stops again, biting his lower lip, searching for the right words but failing. His voice is louder, anger and frustration obvious.  
“This is not fair…. you…… I’m old enough to know what I want and… fuck, I want you, Gabe!”  
He gets up from the ground as well, making his way back to the couch instead of following Gabriel, and sitting down, burying his face in his hands.  
“It’s not fair”, he repeats quietly.  
*  
Cas stares at Dean for a moment, wide blue eyes searching green ones, then a slow smile starts and he shakes his head, a chuckle starting deep in his throat.  
“Dean… I want this…”  
He kisses Dean again and this time puts a little nip at the end, on Dean’s lower lip. Cas shifts, pushing Dean even further and tilting his head back with a low moan.  
“It…it doesn’t really hurt anymore… just feels strange… kinda good right there…”  
Cas shifts again, widening his legs and wrapping them around Dean’s torso, arms loosely draped over his shoulders. Cas looks back into Dean’s eyes, his own flashing hunger.  
“Move, Dean…”  
*  
Gabriel stills, his own worries and desires shoved to the backseat for now the moment he saw how upset he’d just made Sam. He stands up and walks back over to the couch, and sits down next to Sam, slow and careful before drawing the boy into his arms for a hug.  
“I know, Sam…”  
Gabriel sighs soft, ruffling the top of Sam’s hair from where the boy was buried into his chest now, Gabriel’s thinly muscled arms wrapped around his frame.  
“…I know…”  
He buries his face against the top of Sam’s head, shutting his eyes and wishing harder than he’d ever wished for something that he could fast forward time four years, right to Sam’s birthday. Then the feelings that had been cropping up, bombarding him for the past few months wouldn’t be so wrong. Then he wouldn’t feel so crappy for wanting Sam Winchester as bad as he did.  
“…Hey…”  
Gabriel pulls back and brings Sam’s face up so they can look in one another’s eyes.  
“…It’s okay, right?…You n’ me…we’d make a great team…but…just not now. We can still be friends though, I don’t want to lose that, Sammy…”  
Gabriel licks his lips and frowns slightly, worried.  
“..you do still wanna be friends, right Kiddo?”  
*  
Castiel’s words are quiet and yet their meaning shakes Dean to the core. Cas wants this as much as Dean does. He’s willing to take the few moments of pain in exchange for as much pleasure as Dean can bring him. He swallows heavily, licking his lips and bending down to kiss him once more. He needs it, needs this simple press of lips, the most intimate gesture they finally share. He braces his arms on both sides of Castiel’s body, hands gripping the bed sheet tight as he starts moving his hips slowly. The soft sighs escaping Castiel’s throat are honey sweet and Dean can’t tear his eyes away from the stunning view beneath. Castiel’s completely spread out, legs still holding on to Dean’s body desperately, but his arms having fallen back on the mattress, this position displaying his naked body beautifully. The first few thrusts are hesistant, like they’re learning each other’s bodies all over again. But then the grip of Cas’ legs gets even tighter, pulling Dean closer and forcing him deeper and Dean finally can’t hold back any longer. He pushes himself up from where he had leaning over his lover, now kneeling on the bed behind him, hands holding his lover’s hips up, as he starts thrusting inside of him more eagerly. Cas is so tight, it almost makes Dean come right then and there, the friction so fucking delicious he wants to cry. He pushes inside again, much harder this time and when Cas bucks underneath him, he knows he hit that spot inside of him, that always made Dean see stars.  
*  
Sam lets Gabe hold him for a while, quietly cursing the world and universe and god or whoever had decided to be such a cruel, sadistic asshole. What were those feelings worth, if neither of them couldn’t act on them? So… fucking… unfair……  
Sam bites his lip, when Gabe pulls back and tries to smile back at him. The worry in Gabriel’s voice would be adorable if the subject wasn’t as frustrating and serious. He brings up a hand to cup the older man’s cheek, thumb stroking over it gently and for a moment, he feels himself leaning in again, the desire to kiss him again almost too strong to withstand. He averts his eyes then, letting his hands fall into his lap and nodding.  
“…..’course I do..you’re not getting rid of me that easily”, he says eventually and when he looks back up at Gabriel, his smile is genuine.  
*  
Dean’s hesitation had Cas worried for a moment, but soon enough it passes, and Cas lets himself relax completely beneath his fiance. Fiance… what a strange… wonderful thought. Cas flushes and looks up into Dean’s eyes, raising a hand to brush over Dean’s cheek and down his body, trailing smooth fingertips over his chest, brushing over a nipple and then jumping to grip Dean’s arm when something flashes inside him, too hot, too intense, like the flare of a super nova buried deep in his body. Cas cries out, louder than he ever has, a strangled sob of a sound, back arching and nails gripping Dean’s forearm so hard that there would be bruises later.  
“AHH!”  
He pants, and then Dean does it again, and another cry comes out of Cas, shocked from the pleasure flashing through him.  
“AH-DEAN!”  
He shifts his hips, thrusting with a roll of his stomach muscles up onto Dean’s cock, and out of no where Cas stiffens, his whole body locking down on Dean, toes curling, thighs spasming, as his orgasm slams into him with the speed of a bullet train, rushing up and over him and carrying him at what feels like a million miles an hour over that beautiful cliff into pleasured oblivion.  
Cas blacks out for a moment, struggling to breathe as he comes back, realizing he’d painted his stomach with his release, and clamped down on Dean so hard the boy could barely move inside him, and it hurt, burned, but felt so good still, almost too much sensation.  
“O…oh g…god…hah…” Cas lets out a shuddering exhale, hands releasing the pillow behind his head and Dean’s forearm finally.  
*  
Gabriel smiles back sadly, his heart having leapt once more into his throat when Sam had leaned back in. It would be so easy…so, so fucking easy to just toss the rules out the window, crawl into Sam’s lap, and take the teen on the ride of his life. It would be so easy to make Sam his, show him just how good Gabriel’s silver tongue was at things other than spinning tall tales. It would also be so very, devastatingly wrong.  
He presses his lips together and stands up, walking down the hall of his apartment and into the guest room without a word to Sam, knowing that if he said anything, the boy would protest. So he just moves, quietly and quickly, and readies the guest bed for the first time in what seemed like quite a while…Sam and him had always fallen asleep together on the couch, cuddled up, or even in his bed, curled around one another after watching late night TV and gorging themselves on popcorn and candy.  
Gabriel had never made up the guest bed for Sam, and as he turned back the sheets and brushed a crease from the bed, his heart sank just a little deeper in his chest at the prospect of trying to fall asleep in his too large King size bed; especially knowing that Sam was falling asleep just on the other side of the wall, 6 inches of plaster, wiring, sheet rock, and 17 years separating them.  
*  
Castiel’s reaction is stunningly beautiful and Dean stills in his movements, just to sit back and watch. His body’s trembling, knees jerking and fingers digging into the skin of Dean’s shoulder. The boy can feel his skin burning with the firm touch but he’s far too occupied with watching his lover coming undone. Castiel has his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth opened, ecstatic moans escaping his sore throat. Dean’s sure that even if he hadn’t been painfully hard and close already, one look at the beauty writhing and panting his name beneath him, Dean would’ve come immediately. He pulls back then, changing their position so that he can lean his back against the headboard of the bed, his legs parting to make space for his lover. Cas is spent, barely able to move, so Dean takes over, lifting his lover up and letting him slide down a few more times, until he too can feel his orgasm rushing through him. He closes his eyes, forehead falling against Castiel’s shoulder, lips parted to breathe his name against the sweaty skin. All strength leaves him then and when his grip around Castiel’s hips loosens, they sink down onto the bed together, limbs entangled, lips finding their counterpart in seconds, drinking in the soft moans and quiet whispers of affection. It takes longer than usual until Dean is able to breathe again and as he nuzzles at Castiel’s neck, breathing “Thank you, Cas” he feels happier than he has in a long time…  
*  
Sam doesn’t follow the older man, his eyes dropping to the ground the moment he realizes where he’s heading. There’s a lump in his throat and when his eyes fall on the empty beer bottle, he wishes he could turn back time, could undo what he’d done to Gabriel, to the both of them. But then again he doesn’t really regret kissing Gabe… he enjoyed it and Gabe did, too. And still Sam feels responsible, guilty for changing what they had had for a few seconds of pleasure. If he’d thought about it at least a little bit, if he’d pondered the pros and cons, he would’ve preferred leaving things the way they were, staying friends, rather than making things even more complicated.  
Gabe returns to the living-room then, holding a spare pillow in one of his arms, looking down at Sam with a sheepish smile. Sam sighs and gets up, grabbing the bottle and carrying it over to the kitchen. When he turns back around, Gabe is standing in the doorway, watching him with an uninterpretable expression.  
“So… I think I should call it a day”, he says, smiling back at him a bit awkwardly “it’s been… it’s been a long day…..”  
*  
Cas shudders, breath coming in shallow pants still, his body taking in all the sensations that were being thrown at it. It had felt so fucking good to have Dean inside him like that, deep and throbbing; and even know that the boy was soft, the slow ache was barely registering to Cas’ pleasure washed mind. He murmurs softly against Dean’s neck, something like ‘I love you more every day’, and presses a soft kiss to Dean’s cheek.  
Eventually Dean slips from inside Cas, and he groans, rolling over and off the boy, to stand up shakily. His legs wobble a bit, and Cas lets out a surprised laugh before leaning on the dresser.  
“….Is it ever like that for you?”  
Cas looks from Dean to his legs and back again, a wry smile on his lips.  
Dean had literally fucked him until it was hard to stand.  
*  
Gabe nods, quietly, and licks his lips.  
“…Sam…?”  
He bites his lower lip hard, face screwed up for a moment, before he shakes his head.  
“Never mind….Sleep well.”  
He hands the boy the extra pillow and then turns away, to the balcony of his apartment, to look out over the city. It was so unfair…there were so many people out there, just out this window, that were making love and laughing and holding hands with the person they desired- the one they wanted so bad. Gabriel swallows hard against a desert dry throat and leans his head against the freezing cold glass, watches his breath fog it up. He opens the balcony door and goes outside to stand against the railing, instantly shivering in the cold night air, the mist from the bay whipping around him and making everything damp, cold, freezing.  
It was good though, because at least this way he could be numb, perhaps punish himself a little for allowing the kiss to happen- for tainting Sam’s beautiful innocence with his stupid desires.  
Gabriel stands out on the balcony for a good hour, before he decides to come in to bed. He walks down the quiet hallway, pauses in front of the guest bedroom door for a moment, hand reaching for the knob- but he stops himself and walks silently on, into his own bedroom, where he strips in the dark and climbs into his bed. A bed that was bought knowing it would be big enough for two. A bed that had yet to have anyone stay longer than a few nights, before Sam.  
*  
Dean rolls around to watch Cas get up and out of bed and can’t suppress a low chuckle at Castiel’s awestruck expression. He licks his lips, leaning forward on his elbows and smiles.  
“Not always… but..well… pretty much always with you…..”  
He shrugs, feeling his cheeks blush slightly, perfectly in time with Castiel’s own cheeks flushing.  
“Why do you think I’m always bottoming?”  
He laughs and then sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and walking over to where Cas is still leaning against the dresser. He leans in, kissing the side of his neck and that spot right behind his ear softly, before brushing his lips against Castiel’s lightly.  
“Shower?”  
*  
Sam stands in the doorframe of the guest room for a while, watching Gabriel standing on the balcony, completely still, staring out at the city’s nightly skyline. He lies in bed until he can hear the older man’s footsteps, his heart skipping a few beats when Gabe stops, his shadow clearly visible under the door. He doesn’t sleep well that night, thinking about what could’ve been, what could’ve happened if only he were four fucking years older. They could be lying on the couch still, kissing, slowly undressing each other. Gabriel would’ve let Sam take over, wouldn’t have protested when Sam slid his hand inside his boxers and….. Sam bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out those thoughts. They can’t help it. Sam is underage and Gabriel made it very clear that he would not dare ruining his and Sam’s life with this… tension, whatever it is, between them.  
*  
Cas hums and arches his neck to the side as Dean kisses him.  
“Mmm….shower.”  
He trails a hand down Dean’s back then smacks his ass, gently, and grins.  
“Get going, you.”  
Cas follows Dean, trailing a hand along the wall as his legs shake slightly, the muscles worn out from the position they’d been in, tingling and jumpy. It felt good though, knowing he was that thoroughly fucked, knowing that Dean was beyond thinking he was a delicate doll that Dean could break.  
“What do you want to do tomorrow?”  
*  
Gabriel doesn’t really sleep…at all. He lies away in his bed, thinking about how just one door down the hallway there was a beautiful, intelligent, funny boy who liked him. Who actually liked him, Gabriel, not his car or his connections, just his ass or the way he gave head. Sammy liked him, and Gabriel would give anything to be able to make it okay that he liked him back…but that wasn’t possible. Not when the age of consent in California was 18, and even if it was completely consensual between them, it would still be ruled as statutory rape because of Gabriel’s age, and Sam’s.  
He shuts his eyes, trying to shut out the fact that he shouldn’t even be having these feelings for someone so young. What was wrong with him? Sam was 14, not 18 like he looked, and that thought along should send Gabriel running for the hills. What kind of man was he, that he wanted…a…a child this badly?!  
Gabriel rolls on his back, and scrubs his hands over his face, willing away the emotions and the tears that prickled in his eyes.  
The silk sheets beneath him bring no comfort, and the minute the sun starts rising in the east, peeking in, pink and gold, through the blinds, Gabriel is up and in the shower. At least in the confines of the hot vapors and cold tile walls, he could pretend that everything was okay. That touching himself and thinking of Sam’s gangly limbs, large hands and goofy smile wasn’t wrong, and that when he came with a soft gasp of ‘Sam’ just under his breath, no one would ever know.  
*  
“I dunno”, he says, smiling back at Cas, shrugging his shoulders “Whatever you want to, sweetheart.”  
He grins cheekily, then leads the way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and waiting for Cas to follow him inside. He pulls him into a gentle embrace, kissing him lazily, as his hands slide over the flushed body of his lover. They take their time in the shower and when they’re done, neither of them is able to do much more than slump into bed and pull the blanket over them. They fall asleep with their limbs entangled, Cas’ head against Dean’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat as he falls asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

Sam had been lying awake for a while, when he hears Gabe turning on the shower and imagining the other man naked sends a shiver down the boy’s spine. He lies completely still, waiting for the older man to finish and when there’s clattering noises from the kitchen, he finally gets up, shuffling through the hallway to stand in the doorframe. Gabriel is wearing an apron and has his back turned on him, as he prepares what smells deliciously like pancakes.  
“Mornin’”, Sam says and smiles at Gabe, when the other man turns to look at him “Mh*.. breakfast…”  
He pushes himself off the doorframe, walking inside and sitting down on the small table, watching Gabe work.  
“Sorry for.. uhm….. just.. sorry”  
*  
Cas gently shakes Dean awake around 10 the next day, smiling at the sleepy confusion that comes across Dean’s face.  
“Good morning….”  
He grins as Dean groans and attempts to burrow back into the blankets.  
“I made breakfast Dean….eggs and bacon…sausage too..”  
Cas brushes a hand over Dean’s back, rubbing gentle circles that relax the muscles in the middle of his back.  
*  
Gabriel looks over his shoulder and hesitates for just a moment, then grins at Sam.  
“Good morning kiddo! You feel like chocolate chip pancakes?”  
He smiles as he pours more batter onto the griddle, smiling as he hums to himself. Gabriel was trying his hardest to forget last night…and everything that had happened.  
“I figure we can run around town today, give our brothers some more time together. You have anything you want to do?”  
*  
For a moment Dean thinks of school, of how they are fucking late and really should leave asap - but then he remembers they got a day off today and groans contently. Cas’ hands on his back feel so good and quickly Dean relaxes into the other man’s touch.  
“You found food in the fridge?”, he asks, a little puzzled and chuckles then “last time I checked we had mustard and beer…”  
He rolls onto his back then, hands reaching out to grab Cas’ neck and pull him down into a loose embrace. He presses his lips to his fiance’s temple, breathing in his scent, before letting go of him and sitting up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.  
“Can you make me a coffee? No milk, one sugar cube.”  
He smiles back at his lover, then leaves the bedroom to quickly wash his face and brush his teeth. When he joins Cas on the kitchen table, he can’t hide how pleased he is seeing the table set up and stuffed with food. He leans over to capture Castiel’s lips in a long, grateful kiss.  
“Thanks, babe.”  
*  
Sam just shrugs at Gabriel’s words, muttering a ‘thank you’, as he puts the first pancake on the boy’s plate.  
“Mh*..dunno….”, he mumbles, his mouth full with the most delicious pancakes he’d ever had “Cinema maybe? There’s this new horror movie everyone’s freaking out about… some guy slaughtering couples with a pickaxe on Valentine’s day or something….”  
He chuckles at the frown on Gabriel’s face and swallows down the last bite of his pancake, motioning the older man to hand him another one.  
“Or we’ll check the kid’s program, if it’s too exciting for you.”  
He winks at Gabriel, stuffing the second pancake into his mouth. He knows technically he’s too young to see those horror movies but the personnel at the cinema isn’t exactly the most responsible bunch of people and Sam easily looks like 18 or 19, so he never had problems seeing movies deemed inappropriate for his age.  
*  
Cas was happy to be making breakfast for someone again… He’d loved waking up early on Sunday morning to make breakfast in bed for Meg. Half the time she wasn’t very thankful… wanting only to sleep until noon. He could understand, as she’d always worked the late shift on Saturdays, so had gone to bed around 1am…but it always hurt when she’d yell at him to leave her the fuck alone.  
Cas shakes himself out of his memories and back to the present, where a smiling freckled boy was sitting across the table from him, grinning around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.  
“I figured we could do a day trip…have you ever been to Alcatraz?”  
*  
“…If you want to see it, we can…”  
Gabriel hates horror movies. They always give him nightmares, and he ends up squeaking or shrieking like a child whenever something scary happens on screen. Going to see one, in public with Sam, was taking a huge risk at making himself look even more stereotypically gay than he already did. Gabriel looks down at his frilly daffodil covered apron and sighs softly.  
No use trying to act straight now…besides, Sam liked him for him. Daffodil apron and all.  
He smiles and shrugs.  
“Movie it is. Hope you have pants with deep pockets, we’re sneaking in half my candy stash kiddo!”  
*  
Dean swallows a particularly large mouthful of food and then shakes his head.  
“Nah, never really had the occasion…… didn’t want Sammy to go there, actually..”  
He shrugs, taking another sip from his coffee and looking back at Cas.  
“Let’s do it”, he then says, smiling at Cas and nudging his foot against his underneath the table “And later we can go have ice cream!”  
He feels like a little kid, planning a day trip with this man who’s old enough to be Sammy’s very young father but is his lover instead.  
*  
Sam can see that Gabe isn’t particularly excited about the idea but he neither of them says something, so Sam gets up soon, slipping on his shoes and jacket and waiting for the older man at the apartment door. They walk a while, the sunshine and soft breeze too nice not to enjoy, and when they reach the cinema, it’s 2pm. Sam gets the tickets, while Gabe buys them softdrinks and even more snacks, including popcorn and chips, saying something about ‘at least I’m gonna enjoy losing my dignity’. Sam loves the movie, it’s nothing new or very cleverly put together but it’s entertaining and the way Gabriel skids closer to Sam during the extremely brutal or scary scenes is something Sam can’t deny he enjoys. There’s a moment when Gabriel grabs Sam’s hand, face full of shock and fear and Sam turns his hand until their fingers are intertwined. The moment doesn’t last long and Gabe pulls his hand back, leaving Sam feeling cold and lonely. They leave the cinema and Gabe gets them a taxi, takes Sam to a diner around the corner of his and Dean’s apartment where they have dinner together. Sam doesn’t want the day to end but he knows Dean and Cas would be back from whatever they’d been doing all day soon and that Dean would want him to be there when he came back.  
*  
Cas raises an eyebrow at Dean’s enthusiasm for ice cream.  
“Would you like some pie with that ice cream? I know a bakery that does great pie a la mode….”  
His lip quirks slightly, far too entertained at the notion that Dean was this excited for going out on a real date, one of the few they’d had the pleasure to go on in their time together. He still worried a little about being seen outside of school by someone from the school, but the bay area was huge, and the probability of someone they knew seeing them was very slim.  
Cas stands up and walks to the sink, rinses his plate and stacks it to the side to be washed later; they would have plenty of time for dishes tonight, after coming back from the day’s adventures.  
Alcatraz ended up being a bust, as the boats to and from the island were booked solid, which was surprising seeing as it was a Wednesday. Instead, Cas took Dean on a walking tour of the city, showing him things from his own childhood. The hill where he was dared by Gabriel to roller skate down, ‘That’s where the scars on my knees and forearms came from’, and the first mural that he was commissioned to paint at the age of 14, which was just a dancing hotdog for a vendor that no longer existed. Cas laughed until he wheezed at the goatee and mustache someone had drawn on the hotdog, wiped tears from his eyes as he lead them away and on to more things to see.  
They pick up lunch from a burrito vendor in the Haight, and look at one another fondly when they pass the nightclub they had first met at, Dean taking Cas’ hand in his, their fingers intertwining. They stop by an auto body shop that Dean was familiar with, having known the owner for years, and end up talking for hours about the uses of a welding torch and the patterns heat could make on metals. Soon enough the sun was going down, and Cas manages to maneuver Dean back towards the apartment, stopping along a quaint little bakery on the way, called Les Petits Gâteaux, which was an import from France. The owners were a sweet older gay couple, and they all talked for a while about which pie was the best, Dean winning hands down for apple.  
By the time they get back to the apartment, it’s almost 8pm, and Cas and Dean are both in a rather sappy mood, hands intertwined, having stopped every block or so on the way home from the bakery to press into one another for a kiss.  
*  
The whole day was one of frustration for Gabriel. First, just being with Sam was frustrating, knowing that all he had to do was lean up and pull the boy’s face down to his and they could stop wasting time and start enjoying one another in a more intimate sense. Except for the imminent threat of jail, and of ruining Sam’s innocence.  
Second, Gabriel had forgotten how much he hated horror movies. He thought he just hated them…no, he really really fucking hated them. Every time something jumped on the screen, or that terrifying music would go in the background, it took every ounce of his strength not to curl into a ball and cry. He couldn’t do that though, not with Sam there, so he just shivered and ate his weight in gummy bears and red vines and jelly beans.  
The movie over, dinner didn’t go much better. The waitress, who couldn’t have been more than 16, spent the entire time flirting with Sam, and referred to Gabriel as Sam’s ‘older brother’. Gabriel had bristled at that, and snapped that he was a friend, not a relative, and the girl had shrugged, tossed her blonde ponytail and rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever’, she’d said. Gabriel hadn’t wanted to punch a woman in years, but the twit really would have deserved it…but again, jail.  
Dropping Sam off was hard, because while the boy smiled and hugged him and said ‘See you soon Gabe!’, before bounding off inside…Gabriel knew he wouldn’t.  
He knew that he probably wouldn’t be seeing Sam again for some time. On the way home, his heart aching in his chest like it was two sizes too big for his rib cage, he calls his boss.  
“Yeah…Zachariah?….About that transfer to Los Angeles…is the offer still on the table?….Good.”  
*  
Sam is there when Dean unlocks the door to the apartment, him and Cas walking inside to find the youngest Winchester sitting on the couch, watching Jersey Shore. Dean rumples his brother’s hair and sits down on the armrest of the couch, stealing a handful of chips out of the bowl in Sam’s lap. They quickly tell each other about their days and even though Dean is a bit worried about the light in his brother’s eyes, as he’s talking about seeing a movie and hanging out with Gabriel, he doesn’t say anything. He isn’t Gabriel’s biggest fan but he’s a decent guy and Cas trusts him so Dean kind of does, too. He sends Sam off to his room at 9.30, homework for tomorrow still due, and pulls Cas into his lap, kissing him softly. They lie like this for a while, just holding each other, hands gently stroking over each other’s bodies, as they barely register what’s going on on the TV screen. Cas leaves around 11pm and Dean thanks him for the ‘awesome birthday present’ once more, kissing him deeply, before shutting the door and heading to his bedroom. He falls asleep almost immediately, his whole body tired but satisfied.  
*  
A month passes, filled with long days of school for Dean, Sam and Cas, and long nights of passion for Dean and Cas, who spend almost every night together now. They go shopping for new sheets, watch bad TV, and buy each other Valentine’s gifts (a leather bound sketch pad for Cas from Dean, and a trip to the MOMA with a candle lit dinner on top of one of the tallest buildings in the world for Dean from Cas.). Cas gets the best present ever when Dean gives him a key to the apartment, and Dean gets a present back when Cas stops the elevator on its way up to blow him in thanks.  
The class is going well for Cas, all of his students having grown to like and respect him, even the trouble makers. Only a few students are struggling in his class, and those he spends time with after school, helping them through their issues and artistic blocks. Dean, on the other hand, is passing with flying colors. He’s taken to abstract art like a duck to water, explosions of color and monochromatic schemes, huge canvases and triptychs being what he loves to work with most.  
It makes Cas flush bright pink when he reveals his latest work for the class, the outline of a body, bathed in gold, messy hair and billowing curtains in the background, the sun rising on the horizon a cacophony of rainbow colors. He knows it’s his form, can recognize the jut of his hip and the way his hair curls near the nape of his neck, but Cas doesn’t say anything. Not until later that night, when they rock together, Cas deep inside of Dean, whispering ‘I love you’ over and over and over, until Dean comes hard, screaming Castiel’s name.  
They’d spent the last month growing closer and closer, wrapped up in their own little world. So much so that they didn’t notice the distance that was growing, cavernous, between their brothers.  
Gabriel had taken the position in Los Angeles and had requested four weeks to put his affairs in order in San Francisco, rent a home in LA, and move his things. He’d stopped taking Sam’s calls as much, and when they did talk Gabriel was a little distant. Not cold, or rude, just…not as bright and cheery as he normally was.  
Sam had noticed almost instantly, but all Gabriel would say was ‘I’m fine Sam…just really busy… I’ll talk to you soon’. Gabriel was never the one to call though, it was always Sam.  
On Valentine’s, while Dean and Cas were wandering the MOMA and eating steak on the rooftop that overlooked the bay, Gabriel was trying to lose himself in cheap booze and the arms of a nameless man at a club. He let the guy fuck him in the bathroom, the smell of a blueberry condom making him feel sick, and even as he orgasmed with the other guy’s dick deep inside him, the only thing Gabriel could think of was Sam. Sam’s warm smile, his large soft hands, his goofy too loud laugh whenever something stupid happened. Gabriel stumbled home that night and actually let himself weep, sob into his pillow, for the first time in a long time.  
It was that night that he knew this had to happen, that there was no escaping his feelings for Sam, and that he couldn’t hide from the fact that he loved a boy of fourteen years old any longer.  
Two weeks later he was driving his sports car out of San Francisco for LA, blaring anything but Lady Gaga on the radio. He lead the way for the moving truck that was carrying all his belongings, but Gabriel knew he left his heart in the hands of a hazel eyed boy in San Francisco, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but run, run until he ran out of room.  
*  
When Sam calls Gabe the next day, the line is dead. He doesn’t even wait long enough for the female voice telling him that ‘the number you called has been disconnected’, cellphone sliding out of his hand and dropping to the ground. Getting to Gabriel’s place by public transportation takes him a little less than an hour and when he sees the empty space where Gabriel’s name tag once had been, he feels like somebody had punched him in the gut. His knees are shaking, when he stumbles over to a bench, having ringed the bell countless times without getting an answer. For about twenty minutes he just sits there, eyes staring on the ground below unblinking, hands clenched to fists in his lap. When the tears come, they’re silent and aplenty and Sam reaches his hands up to hide his face. He’s gone, he realizes, as wrecked sobs escape his throat and he tastes the salty sting of tears on his lips. Gabriel had decided to go, to leave Sam behind without telling him where he went. And as much as Sam wants to believe that he did it for him, he can’t shake the feeling that Gabriel is fed up with him, that being around a moody teenager had tired and finally chased him away. It’s the first time in years that Sam ignores Dean completely when he gets home. He closes and locks his bedroom door behind himself, picking up the cellphone from the ground and dialing Castiel’s number. It’s late, 11pm or so and it takes Cas a while to pick up, and when he does Sam doesn’t wait for him to scold Sam for calling so late.  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”, he says and although he wants to sound angry, furious, his voice is just shaking with disappointment and hurt “You knew he’d leave and you didn’t tell me - why?!”  
*  
The greeting that had been on Castiel’s lips dies, and he frowns slightly before clearing his throat.  
“…Sam….you want to tell me what this is about?”  
There’s a strangled sobbing sound, almost a wail, and then the line goes dead. Cas frowns, then grabs his car keys and is out the door and on the way to Dean and Sam’s apartment in less than a minute. He drives quickly, carefully, and is to their door in 15 minutes, after calling Dean to let him know that he was coming.  
“No, he didn’t say what he meant, just cried and hung up…I ..I don’t under-”  
“….Cas….Gabriel. He’s talking about Gabriel.”  
“…What? But I just talked to Gabriel yesterday, he’s fine!”  
“….Have you called him today?”  
“…No.”  
Cas hangs up with Dean just as he’s parking at the apartment, and presses the speed dial to call Gabriel…of course, he doesn’t get through. Cas is furious by the time he gets upstairs he’s called the few of Gabriel’s close friends that he knows of, and gleaned enough information from the tidbits they know to discover that Gabriel has moved, yesterday, to Los Angeles.  
He lets himself into the apartment and shuts the door behind him, and by now it’s closer to midnight than 11.  
“Dean? Sam?”  
Cas pockets his keys and runs a hand through his hair.  
“Dean?”  
*  
Dean is leaning against the door in front of Sam’s room, exhaling in relief when he hears the door falling shut and Cas’ voice calling his name.  
“Over here”, he says and Cas turns around the corner, walking over to him.  
Dean pulls him into a quick hug, whispering “Thanks for coming” against his temple before he kisses him, softly, gratefully.  
“He won’t open the door… it’s bad Cas, I-….I think he’s crying..”  
He stops, biting his lip and shaking his head softly.  
“You need to talk to him, Cas, he won’t talk to me…..”  
*  
Cas frowns hard, cursing his brother internally as he knocks on the door.  
“Sam…Sam, can I come in?..Let’s figure out what’s going on, okay?”  
He pauses, listening, and finally hears the shift of springs as Sam gets up off the bed and shuffles to the door to unlock it. He opens it a crack then walks away, back to the bed, and slumps back down on it, arms crossed over his chest, a permanent bitch face etched on his face.  
Cas walks inside and shuts the door, figuring that whatever Sam had to say, he’d rather not say it with his brother listening.  
“…Sam….I called around…Gabriel’s phone, I know you know it’s disconnected, but I wanted to let you know it doesn’t work for me either…I talked to him yesterday…and he seemed fine.”  
Cas sits down on the bed at Sam’s feet, reaching out to pat the boy’s knee gently.  
“I don’t really know what’s going on…except what his friends told me. He’s moved to Los Angeles. Apparently there’s a job down there that he accepted…he’d been avoiding moving for about half a year now, from what his friend told me…”  
Just then there’s a beep on his phone, and Cas takes it out to see a text message from a new number.  
(unknown number): Hey Cassey! This is your beloved brother’s new phone number! Just checking in to let you know I’ve moved to LA, great new promotion I got, lots more money and lots of hot guys to check out down here at the clubs! Say hi to Sam and Dean for me. XOXO – Gabe  
Cas holds the phone in his hand, staring at it for a moment, before he grits his teeth.  
“God…dammit, Gabriel.”  
*  
Sam looks back at Cas incredulously, trying to make sense of the whole situation. When it dawns to him, he speaks as if he still can’t understand how this is possible.  
“He… he went to LA and..he didn’t tell you?”  
He slowly stands up, taking a few shaky steps towards the door and leaning against the wall next to it, his knees suddenly very weak. He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he takes a shaky breath. He turns around, opening the door and storming outside, past Dean and out the apartment door without any warning. Dean freezes for a moment, then he follows his brother, running after him, down the stairs. He reaches him on the 4th floor, grabbing his shirt and yanking him backwards, his back pressed against one of the cool staircase walls.  
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”, he asks and his voice is rough, annoyed but mostly worried “What’s going on, Sam?”  
There’s a few seconds of breathless silence, of the brothers glaring at each other. Then Sam’s face falls and he stumbles forwards, into his brother’s arms, gripping his shirt desperately as he starts crying again.  
“He left me, the son of a bitch left me!”  
Dean has to wrap his arms around Sam’s shoulders tightly, to hold him in place, to stop him from sinking to his knees or escape his grip once more.  
“…..Sam..I-….I’m sorry…I know how much you liked him……”  
He’s taken aback when Sam starts laughing humorlessly, shaking his head and pulling back until he can look into Dean’s eyes, as he speaks again.  
“You know nothing, Dean… I’m in love with him!”  
And when Sam squirms free of his grip this time, Dean lets him, standing in the dimly lit staircase, staring after his baby brother in disbelief.  
Sam leaves the apartment building, walking just a few blocks until the cool night air has numbed his body enough, then enters the diner him and Gabe had spent many evenings at. He sits on their usual table, in a corner by the window, orders black coffee and stares outside. He knows he shouldn’t be out alone at this hour, knows that Dean is probably freaking and that this would result into him being grounded for at least a week. But all that’s on his mind is Gabe. Gabe’s smile, his laugh, his humor, his gentleness and the way he spoke about his brother, the way he had looked at Sam. The way he had returned his kiss. There had been something there, Sam had been so sure. And now he was gone. Leaving behind his life and family and friends without goodbye, without any explanation. And Sam can’t shake the thought that this is his fault. That his advances simply had been to much for the older man, that he’d felt annoyed or molested and chose to turn his back on him. And of course he wouldn’t tell Cas, the teacher would’ve let Sam know somehow and that’d ruined his plan.  
Sam returns to the apartment at 2am, finding Cas sitting on the floor inside, blinking when Sam enters and turns on the lights. He gets up, putting an arm around Sam’s shoulders and guiding him back into his room. Sam doesn’t protest when Cas hands him his pyjamas, presses a kiss against the teenager’s forehead and leaves the room. He can hear him call Dean and suddenly Sam feels bad, knowing that Dean probably went to look for him, spending his whole night worrying about his younger brother. He falls asleep feeling miserable, tears on his face and guilt and regret a throbbing pain in the back of his head.  
*  
The minute Sam and Dean left the apartment, Cas had called Gabriel, and cussed him out.  
“What were you thinking Gabe?! You just leave? Fuck leave, without telling anyone?!”  
“Cas-”  
“SHUT UP, I’m not done!”  
“…”  
“…I can’t fucking believe you would do this to me…to Sam. That boy has been freaking out all day long trying to find you. You disconnected your phone? What the hell?”  
“…I’m in love with him, Cas.”  
“You keep saying that, but you don’t do that to people you love Gabriel!”  
“You do when they’re underage and you’re terrified you can’t stop yourself!”  
“…What?”  
“….He….Sam kissed me, the night of Dean’s birthday party. He kissed me, and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him back…and I felt sick afterward. What kind of man am I that I would take advantage of a 14-year-old like that?”  
Castiel sits down on the couch, after pacing the apartment, both brothers quiet for a moment as Cas takes in how wrecked Gabriel’s voice was, his shuddering breathing that only happened when he was choking back tears.  
“…So your solution was to pick up and leave?…Without telling me?”  
“…Would you have kept it a secret if I had asked you to?”  
“Yes.”  
“Bullshit Castiel, don’t fucking lie to me. If you had known I was leaving yesterday, you would have told Dean and Sam so they could say goodbye, even if I told you not to…”  
“….”  
Gabriel chokes on a sob on the other end of the line, and Cas feels his heart clench in his chest.  
“Gabe…”  
“Just…I couldn’t okay? I couldn’t see his face, knowing I was leaving. I would have stayed. I would have stayed because I fucking love that kid, okay? I love his floppy hair and his goofy smile and the way he laughs at stupid cartoon shows. I can’t stop that…..but I can stop myself from breaking my promise to Dean, and more importantly, my promise to myself, that I wouldn’t hurt Sam like that.”  
“How would you-”  
“He’s fourteen Cas. He deserves to grow up and make his own decisions….not have some 31-year-old who’s apparently a pedophile prey upon him.”  
“…Do you love him because he’s 14?”  
“What? NO.”  
“…Then you’re not a pedophile. Would you have left if he was 18, or 20…25?”  
“…No….”  
“Then stop this martyr bullshit. You’re not a pedophile. You’re not turned on to Sam because of his age. If anything that turns you off, Gabriel.”  
“…Cas…”  
“Shut up.”  
They sit in silence again for a moment, then Cas speaks again.  
“….Do you want me to give him your phone number?”  
“…No…it’s probably best if we don’t talk on the phone for a while…I…I need some time….It really, really hurts Cas…to think about him…about what I did to him.”  
“It was just a kiss-”  
“No, no…just…leaving like that. I didn’t want to, but..”  
“…I know Gabe.”  
“…He has my email. He can contact me that way. Please tell Sam I’m sorry…I really am. I just couldn’t stay, and not be with him. Tell him I won’t ignore his emails, if he sends any…but that I’d understand if he doesn’t want to talk to me.”  
“…Okay Gabriel.”  
“…I love you Cas.”  
“Love you too Gabe….and, Gabe?”  
“Yeah?”  
“…Don’t ever pull something like this again.”  
There’s a strangled laugh, a bitter huff.  
“…Yes Sir.”  
“…Night.”  
“Night.”  
Cas hangs up and looks up just as Dean walks in to grab his jacket and keys.  
“Going to look for him?”  
The look of pure fury on Dean’s face says how pissed he is at Gabriel, and Sam, but mostly Gabriel. They would deal with that later. Cas draws Dean into a hug, and then whispers, ‘I’ll stay here and call you if he comes back….’.  
Dean leaves without looking back, his vision narrowed down to one word, ‘Sammy’.  
*  
The door clicks shut after Cas puts Sam to bed, and he goes to sit on the couch to wait for Dean, hands shaking from the sadness, and utter betrayal he’d seen on Sam’s face. He couldn’t imagine doing that to Dean…to just leave him like that. It was unthinkable.  
Dean gets home a little while later, looking exhausted, and Cas takes him to bed, wrapping his arms around the man he loves, and holding on tight. Dean cries quietly, frustration and worry all having piled up inside him until he wasn’t able to hold it in anymore. Cas lets him, and just hangs on, knowing the best thing he can do for Dean right now was just to be there, a silent pillar to support him in his time of need.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I....I apologize in advance for how this chapter ends.

When Dean wakes up the next morning, he feels miserable. His legs ache from roaming the neighborhood for Sam, his eyes burn and when he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, they’re all puffy and red from crying. He makes himself a sandwich, not really in the mood for a big breakfast. He sits down in the armchair by the window, looking outside until he can hear soft footsteps on the laminate floor. Sam stops a few feet behind the chair, clearing his throat uncomfortably but Dean doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even turn around.  
“I’m sorry I ran off”, Sam says and Dean bites his trembling lower lip, eyes staring unseeing outside the window “I shouldn’t have…..”  
Dean takes a deep breath, putting down his coffee mug on the window sill and getting up slowly. His voice is quiet, calm, although Sam can hear his words wavering.  
“I looked for you… for hours…”  
He stops, gripping the edge of the sill tightly, as if this was the only way of holding himself up.  
“I understand that you’re sad…. and angry……. but don’t take this out on me!”  
He spins around, the mug slipping off the sill and shattering on the ground, as Dean glares at his brother furiously.  
“You can take all the fucking time you need to grieve or rage - but you don’t run off like that! You call me, you fucking text me, let me know where you are and you come home and if you need someone to talk to I’m here. You hear me?!”  
He feels his eyes water again and he doesn’t even care that Sam sees it, sees him crying cause he would do anything for him, give up anything for him. Sam’s lips tremble and he nods, frantically, determinedly, then lunges forward, throwing himself at Dean and they crash together, hugging each other tight without any more words.  
”..love you, Dean”, Sam breathes, breath hitching as he sobs quietly against his brother’s neck and Dean bites his lip hard, whispering back “You too, Sammy” under his breath.  
*  
Cas watches quietly from the doorway, a soft smile on his face. It’s amazing seeing the bond they have. Castiel knows that it went back from before their parents died, but having their parents both be killed certainly made it even stronger. He envies that in a way. Gabriel hadn’t even seen fit to tell him he was leaving, regardless of what was going on with Sam, Castiel was still his brother. And Gabe had left without a word.  
Cas shakes off the jealousy and walks into the room, clearing his throat and smiling.  
“I’m… I think I’m gonna head home-“  
He holds up a hand as Dean’s face falls and Sam’s eyes widen.  
“Just for a little bit. I’m going to grab some clothes… think I’d like to stick around for a week or so…that okay with you guys?”  
Cas is practically bowled over as both Winchesters rush over and envelop him in a tight hug. He smiles, shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth for a moment…it was beautiful to have this, an extended family of sorts.  
“I’ll be back soon okay?”  
He kisses Dean softly, trailing a hand down his cheek, then ruffles Sam’s hair.  
“See yah soon.”  
Cas leaves with a smile on his face, his spirits high knowing that in just a few hours he’d be back, dropping his clothes off and then riding in to school with both brothers.  
*  
Dean hates watching Cas leave but the thought of having him around for a whole week, of falling asleep and waking up with him every day, of Cas making love to him until they’d be spent and aching, too tired to move, is enough to make him shiver with anticipation. Sam sweeps up the shards of the coffee mug, while Dean heads back to the kitchen, making his brother the biggest sandwich possible. It’s still early, school would start in about three hours, but when Cas still isn’t back at 7.30, Dean and Sam get dressed and leave the apartment, a note on the door that Cas knew they had left without him. Dean calls him from the car but just gets directly to voice mail. He drops off Sam at school, grabbing his shoulder and looking at him for a long moment, before letting go, promising to pick him up in the afternoon. Cas’ car isn’t there when Dean pulls on the school’s parking lot and when he passes the art room, there’s a bunch of students waiting in front of it. This had never happened before. He sees a lot of confused, worried faces and quickly turns around, finding a deserted hallway and dialing Cas’ number again. And again. And again. Nothing. Images flash in front of his eyes. Cas getting held up, kidnapped by burglars, getting run over by a car. He calls him again, leaves the sixth voice mail, his voice stifled but full of worry and fear “Jesus H. Christ, where are you, Cas? Please just..call me as soon as you get this, okay?!….. I love you..”  
*  
Castiel makes it home in record time, a spring in his step as he walks in the door of the house he still shares with Meg, even though he never sees her, as these days he’s barely even sleeping there. Opening the front door though, he almost runs over her small form, and catches her before she falls over backwards, eyes wide.  
“Oh, shit…Sorry, uh…are you okay?”  
Meg rights herself and brushes off her shirt, frowning slightly, before placing a protective hand on her stomach.  
“We’re fine….thanks.”  
Cas blinks, his entire body frozen as he stares at Meg, the front door still open letting cold air inside. Meg moves around him to close the door, and he shifts, watching her move, only know noticing, for the first time in over three months, Meg’s body.  
Her thin frame was almost the same, perhaps changed a little bit, but even in the loose shirt she was wearing, Cas could still see the outline of her belly- her softly rounded belly. He swallows hard, eyes wide as he looks at Meg.  
“….Meg…?”  
“…Yes…I’m pregnant.”  
Cas shakes his head slowly, backing away from her and frowning hard.  
“It’s not mi-“  
“Yes…it is Cas. It’s yours.”  
The entire world seems to grow dark around him as Cas sinks to the floor, still clutching his keys in his hand, fingers of the empty hand curling around the fabric of the carpet once he hit the ground.  
“No…th..this isn’t…”  
“What, possible?…It’s a pregnancy Castiel, not faster than light travel! Of course it’s possible!”  
“W…Why didn’t you tell me?!”  
“…When was I supposed to? When you were at work? Or when you were off at your filthy slut’s house?!…We work opposite schedules Castiel, and there was NO way I was going to tell you about your child- OUR, child- over the fucking phone or through a fucking message on your door!”  
Cas winces at the venomous words she spits at him, watches as she walks over to sit down on the couch, her face calming considerably as she looks at him.  
“…Come sit with me…”  
Cas numbly stands up, wobbly legs barely carrying him to the couch.  
“….I know, that you say you don’t love me anymore.”  
“I don’t.”  
Meg’s face screws up slightly but she takes a deep breath to calm herself before she speaks again.  
“I know you don’t think you do, and that’s fine, really…we don’t need to be in love with one another to get married and raise our child together.”  
“WHAT?!…N..no, I’m not marrying you, that’s not happening, I can’t, I’m already-“  
“I told your parents, Castiel.”  
The red hot panic and anger that had been filling Cas was abruptly dosed with an ice cold bath of fear..and dread. She…had told his parents. His strict, religious parents. His parents that were counting on him to be their normal son, the one to uphold their morals and guidelines, to get married and buy a house and have children- everything they’d dreamt of for him from the time he was an infant.  
“…You…Why…Why would you do that?”  
“…Because I know you Castiel. I know how stubborn you can be. I knew you wouldn’t want this, want our child…you would probably force an abortion on me…well guess what you stupid asshole? Your parents know about it now, and I expect you’ll be getting a call anyday from your Mother wanting to talk about where we should hold the wedding ceremony…”  
Castiel blanches, and he stares at her, swallowing down the lump that had been building in his throat. Meg smirks and rolls her eyes, waving her hand as if to dismiss his worries.  
“Oh, don’t worry, I covered for you. Said that you already asked for my hand in marriage, BEFORE we discovered I was pregnant. I spun a real nice tale Castiel…you might want to buy me a rock though, so you don’t look like the cheap filth you are.”  
She licks her red lips and then smiles, sickly sweet at him.  
“I figure we should get married as soon as possible…so that I can still hide the bump.”  
Cas can’t do anything but stare at her.  
“….Well?….Say something, idiot.”  
“….I love h-“  
“If that sentence ends with anything other than ‘Meg’ or ‘You’ or ‘Our child’…so help me God I will fucking kill you.”  
There’s murder in her eyes as she glares at him, artfully tweezed brows squeezed together in the center of her forehead, mouth pinched like she’d sucked a lemon in the center of her face. Cas shuts his mouth, and sinks back against the couch as the fight leaves him.  
That was it. She’d trapped him. Somehow managed to work around condoms and birth control pills and spermicide to get herself pregnant. Somehow, despite all his precautions, she’d managed it. And now he was trapped. He could never ask her to get an abortion…wouldn’t have even if his parents hadn’t known.  
Now that his parents knew though? They would disown him, completely, if he didn’t marry Meg. They would purge him and everything he’d ever meant to them from their lives, and without Castiel to act as a buffer, Gabriel would be cut off as well. They would both lose their parents…all because Cas was stupid enough to think he could be happy.  
That he could be with Dean, and be loved, and love someone with such a fire passion that the sun paled in comparison.  
No…instead, he would be trapped in a loveless marriage to a woman that was more demon than human, evil to the core. His life as he’d come to know it was over. And there was nothing that Cas could do about it, except cry. Meg scoffs from beside him, smacks him on the arm and leans on his leg as she stands up to walk into the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder as she goes, ‘Stop being such a baby, Castiel…Oh, and we’re going to the Doctor’s in two weeks…prenatal exam. You CANNOT miss that!’  
With Meg out of the room, he’s able to breathe again, just slightly. The first coherent thought to his mind is that he has to call Dean, has to tell him what just happened, and beg for forgiveness…even though he knows he’ll never deserve it for letting this happen, for not somehow seeing through her lies about love to the core of it, where she’d spun some kind of web to capture him forever. Spider and the fly, and he was the stupidest fly there ever was. He reaches for his phone, and comes up empty. Both pockets, back, front…gone? Cas frowns, and then looks up at the door, where Meg holds his phone in one hand, a smirk on her face.  
“I’m better at pick pocketing than you remembered, aren’t I?”  
Cas flashes back to just a moment ago, when she had leaned against him to stand up, the brush of her hand against his leg. He stands up, voice hard as he speaks.  
“Give it back Meg, I have to call-“  
“No…NO, you don’t ‘have to call’ fucking ANYONE. I AM THE ONLY PERSON WHO MATTERS TO YOU NOW CASTIEL. Me and our child. Fuck you. You don’t get a say in this.”  
She walks back into the kitchen, Cas on her heels, pleading with her, reaching for the phone. Meg turns around and slaps him, hard enough to leave a hand print, hard enough to stun. When he finally shakes out of it, he blinks away the stars just in time to see the smug smirk of satisfaction on her face as Meg presses ‘blend’, and their fancy pro-grade blender turns his smart phone into a sparking blinding whirl of plastic, metal, and glass.  
“NO!”  
“YES!”  
Castiel’s face hardens and he snarls at her.  
“FINE! FUCKING FINE, you may have trapped me in this…with whatever it is that’s growing inside you, FINE…but you will never have my heart Meg. You’ve lost that, and you want to know something?”  
Cas’ voice is quiet as he speaks.  
“You never even really had it, you psychotic bitch.”  
Meg’s eyes spark with fury, and she shrieks at him and grabs a knife from the counter top, slashing at Cas as expletives stream from her mouth. Cas barely makes it into his room, slamming and locking the door, before the knife thuds into the other side of it with a solid ‘ch-thunk!’  
Meg screams at him from the other side of the door.  
“FUCK YOU CASTIEL! You ruined everything!!!! EVERYTHING. We were supposed to be happy you fucking selfish prick! I loved you! I loved you and then you went and fucked it up with your WHORE! NOW YOU’RE MINE AGAIN, and I’m NEVER going to let you go! Deal with it! MAN UP, you fucking COWARD!”  
Cas slumps down against the wall nearest him after putting a chair under the door. There were bars on the windows on the outside, the house so old there was no safety switch, no way to get out of the room except from the door. He realizes with a sick feeling like starvation in the pit of his stomach that he’s trapped in his own house, with no way to get out, no way to contact Dean. He shuts his eyes, sobbing, as he realizes that even his laptop, which he normally keeps in his room, was in the trunk of his car, having left it there over the weekend.  
He was absolutely and utterly screwed…and he had no way of telling Dean.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and I'm sorry even more for this one. ;_;

Dean skips his first class, waiting in front of the arts room with the other students. Fifteen minutes into the period, a teacher comes by to unlock the door and let them in, letting them know that Mr Novak probably wouldn’t come and they should do homework or work on their current assignments. Dean follows the teacher outside, asking him about Cas’ whereabouts but he just shrugs, obviously stressed and pissed, telling him that ‘Mr Novak didn’t call, he just didn’t show up’. Dean leaves the school building, after checking with the school secretary and learning that she as well didn’t know anything about Cas. He calls him thirteen more times, when he realizes that something has too be wrong, terribly wrong. He swallows heavily, before dialing the number of the ER of the closest hospital. Twenty minutes and several waiting loops later, he at least has the certainty that nothing had happened to Cas… or at least nobody had found him yet. He doesn’t have Gabriel’s new number and he doesn’t know about Cas’ home number and/or address either. He curses his own negligence, his lack of interest for Cas’ old life, for his old home. They’d always met at Dean’s apartment or some place else, Cas not wanting to bring his gay lover back to the apartment he was still inhabiting with his girlfriend.  
He picks up Sam at 3pm, driving him home without saying a word. Only when they get inside the apartment, he tells him about Cas’ disappearance. They sit at the kitchen table, both their phones in front of them, dinner neglected, staring at the front door, hoping, waiting.  
*  
3 days pass in silence, Dean and Sam going to school, getting more and more anxious, until Dean finally demands to speak to the Principal, who states that he can’t reveal personal information and that Dean would just have to wait until his teacher got back into the classroom.  
That night, Sam answers his phone with a frown, the ‘unknown number’ that had lit up his phone’s screen never a good sign- until he hears Gabriel’s voice. A rush of pleasure and pain flows through him at the older man’s voice, and he has to take a few gulping breaths to calm himself enough to hear what Gabriel is trying to say.  
“Sam?…Look….I’m really sorry for leaving like I did…and I’ll apologize about it until my face is blue, later..but- right now, I’m a bit freaked out. I can’t reach Cas. I’ve been calling his cell phone for days but he hasn’t returned any of my calls despite the voice mails I’ve left….”  
He pauses then, and sighs.  
“Sam..I’m worried about my brother.”  
Sam opens his mouth, but finds that his voice won’t come, and shuffles out of his room and into the living room to hand his phone to Dean, shaking his head before mouthing ‘Gabriel’ at his brother.  
“Sam?…Sam?”  
Dean practically snarls into the phone.  
“What the fuck do you want Gabriel?!”  
“…Jesus…Dean..uh, hi…I’m…I’m sorry I don’t really-…look, have you spoken to Cas lately? I’ve been calling for the last three days and he’s not answering, and if he’s just pissed at me because of what I did to him and Sam and you…then that’s fine, but I need to know for sure he’s okay, okay?”  
*  
For a few seconds Dean can feel anger taking over, fear and worry dissipating and making space for searing hot fury. But then Gabriel keeps talking and his words are like knives, making his knees go weak and threaten to suffocate him. Gabe hasn’t heard from Cas either……. he’s worried about him just as Dean ist - so even though he still isn’t very fond of the older man leaving his brother without any word, Dean pulls himself together, for Cas’ sake.  
“He’s been gone for three days now”, he says and barely recognizes his own voice, shaky and hoarse from crying “Gabe, he..he just wanted to get some clothes from his apartment and….. he never showed up, neither here nor at school. Nobody knows anything, they…I called the ERs but he’s not there and neither are there any John Does…….”  
He falls silent, feeling Sam inching closer, his hand on his brother’s arm, squeezing gently, reassuringly. He still can’t quite believe how amazing Sam is. He knows he’s scared shitless about Cas as well, that he cares about him almost as much as Dean does and that the worry eats him up just like it does Dean. But Sam has always been the strong one, his tower of strength, of hope. Dean takes Sam’s hand into his, thumb stroking over the back of it and pulling him closer, tugging his head underneath his chin, before he keeps talking.  
“Gabe, I’m so fucking scared something happened to him……”  
*  
“…Okay…Okay Dean, stay calm for me okay?…I’m…I have Meg’s number. I didn’t want to call her unless I had to, but maybe she’s seen him. Let me call her and get back to you okay?”  
He takes a breath and then sighs, his voice sad, underneath the worry.  
“….I’m sorry..about what I did…I just…I had to. I love Sam, Dean. I’m in love with him…and I couldn’t be around him-….I never want to lose your friendship, or your faith in me…and Sam’s innocence was worth more to me than getting what I wanted in the moment….”  
He’s silent for a moment, then speaks again.  
“I just hope you both can understand that someday.”  
Gabriel hangs up then, and after collecting himself and scrolling through his contacts to ‘HELL BITCH’, he presses ‘call’. Meg picks up on the third ring, her voice sounding annoyed.  
“What do you want Gabriel?”  
“Hi to you too Meg. Have you seen Cas?”  
“…Yes. He’s here. He’s home.”  
“….What?…Why isn’t he answering his phone? Could…just give him the phone I need to rip him a new one.”  
“…He can’t come to the phone right now.”  
Gabriel can hear the annoyance in her voice, but under that, something new- fear.  
“Why can’t my brother come to the phone Meg?”  
“Because he’s busy. Call back later.”  
“Meg. I haven’t spoken to my brother in three days. According to-…According to his work, he hasn’t been to work in three days. Without sending in word.”  
Meg curses herself inwardly- of course she should have thought about that, before she confined Cas to his room, holding him hostage in his own house.  
“He’s just been sick.”  
“Then let me talk to him. I need to hear his voice.”  
“No.”  
“…Meg, I’ve never liked you. Ever. But I respected you because Castiel had chosen to be with you. Now? He’s not with you anymore, so guess what? I won’t hesitate to call the fucking cops on you unless you give the phone to Cas. Right. The Fuck. Now.”  
Meg is silent, and then she sniffs.  
“Fine.”  
There’s a scraping sound as the phone is shoved under the door, and Cas scrambles for it as Meg snarls that it’s his ‘worthless FAG of a brother for you, Castiel!’  
Cas huffs into the phone, voice dry from a throat that hasn’t had much water in the last three days.  
“Gabe?”  
“CAS!…God dammit, what is wrong with you, where is your phone!?”  
“…Meg blended it.”  
“What?”  
“She put it in the fucking blender and then blended it into tiny metal and glass shards.”  
“WHAT?!”  
“….Meg’s pregnant Gabriel…she told Mom and Dad that we’re engaged, and she’s pregnant, and we’re getting married.”  
“….THAT PSYCHOTIC BITCH!!!! You don’t have to do-”  
“Yes, yes I do Gabriel.”  
“…NO, Cas…you don’t.”  
“Yes, I do. Please, just…don’t argue with me on this one, okay?”  
“No, Cas…you love Dean. You love him, I see it, I hear it in your voice- you can’t just throw that away because some psycho bitch managed to get pregnant!”  
“Gabriel. This is my child. MY child. It doesn’t matter that Meg is unstable, and I don’t love her…this baby is ours. It deserves a stable environment, not a split home with two parents who hate each other. I need to do this. I….I want to be a Father, Gabe.”  
“…More than you want to be with Dean?”  
The immediate answer shouts out in his heart, but Cas just sinks on the bed and shuts his eyes, so very tired of arguing about this in his head, he didn’t want to argue about it with his brother too.  
“…Stop, Gabriel. I can’t do this.”  
“…Fine. Fucking fine Castiel, you do this. Fine. But you deserve to tell that boy face to face-”  
“You’re one to talk?!”  
“I LEFT BECAUSE I LOVE SAM…not because I’m throwing him away for some bitch and her hellspawn!”  
There’s silence on the line, and Gabriel swallows hard, realizing he’d crossed a line.  
“Cas…look, I’m sorry-”  
“…Gabriel. Stop. Don’t call me again…not until you can support my decision to be a Father.”  
“Cas!”  
Cas flips the phone shut, and then stands up, walking to the door and unlocking it after removing the chair. He steps out into the hallway, ignoring the knife still stuck in his door that wobbled as he opened the door all the way. Meg stood there, arms crossed, eyes shooting daggers at him.  
“Your faggot brother convince you to go back to your whore?”  
Cas’ upper lip peels back in a snarl and he backs Meg into a wall, hands pinning her there on either side of her head, holding her in place with his glare, not one inch of their bodies actually touching.  
“Say ‘whore’ one more time and see what happens.”  
“What are you gonna do Cas? I’m carrying your BABY, you fucking IDIOT.”  
Cas’ face pinches, vibrating as fury slams through him, and he slams his fist into the wall, right through the plaster, next to her head. Meg’s eyes flare wide, and she shakes under his gaze now.  
“I will be a Father to this child…and I will be your husband. But I will never love you. I will never care for you, other than as the Mother of our child. You will not control me, keep me hostage, destroy my belongings, or call those I love ‘WHORE’ ever again. Do I make myself CLEAR?”  
Meg nods quietly, hands pressed against the wall hard.  
“I am going out now. I am going to say goodbye, and then I am going to my parents to talk to them about this wedding you want to plan. I will go to your Doctor’s Appointment next week, and every other appointment in the future. I will be there for the delivery, and for every step of our child’s life…but if you try to control me ever again, I will make your life hell.”  
He pulls back away from her, and walks out of the house, to his car and gets inside. Cas breathes for just a moment, calming himself down, before he drives into the city, taking the long route up Highway 1 and past Twin Peaks, silent tears streaking scalding trails down his cheeks as he drives. It takes over a half hour for Castiel to reach Dean’s apartment, but by the time he parks and gets up to the floor, his face is scrubbed dry.  
Cas takes a deep breath, and then knocks on the door, mentally preparing himself for what was to come: the last time he would get to see the love of his life.  
*  
Dean’s hands are shaking, Sam’s cellphone bouncing loosely in his lap, as he keeps staring at the clock. It’s been 30 minutes since Gabriel called Castiel’s ex girlfriend and there’s still not a word back from him. In the back of his mind Dean is preparing for the worst, for Gabriel calling him, voice broken as he tells him that there’s no hope left, that Cas is gone, perished like some animal by the side of the road. His phone buzzes and Dean drops it to the ground completely startled. He picks it up quickly, reading the short text message on the screen, a frown on his face as he tries to make sense of the words.  
Unknown number: ‘Cas is fine. He’s gonna talk to you soon.’  
Dean tries calling the number but Gabe apparently shut his phone off. He gets up, giving Sam back his phone and heading to the living-room. They wait in silence for another hour, before Dean tells Sam to go to bed. He tries watching some TV but almost everything reminds him of Cas and soon he turns it off again. He racks his brain for signs, hints of why Cas would leave just like that but doesn’t find any. Hell, last time he saw him, Cas was asking to stay at their place for a week, giving them even more chances of spending time together. And now this…?! Dean doesn’t cry but he’s very close, lower lip quivering and hands digging into the pillow in his lap.  
When there’s a knock on the apartment door, Dean freezes, staring at the hallway for a moment, before getting up and looking through the peephole. He opens the door, grabbing the lapels of Castiel’s trenchcoat, yanking him inside and pushing him backwards into the hallway.  
“You fucking asshole, what the hell were you thinking??”  
He’s yelling, despite the fact that it’s past 10pm and Sam’s asleep and he just wants to wrap his arms around Cas and kiss him and hear his voice until exhaustion takes over and lulls him into sleep. Instead he takes another step towards him, pushing him further backwards, worry and anger mixing on his face.  
“Me ‘n Sam were worried sick, you son of a bitch! You couldn’t even call to let us know you’re fucking alive??!”  
*  
Dean has Cas backed up against a wall, yelling in his face, worry and anger and desperation plain in the way he pushes on Cas, grips his trenchcoat, eyes glittering with tears. And it hurts Cas more than he thought possible. He wasn’t ready for this, for seeing Dean angry with him, and knowing he was only going to make it worse the moment he opens his mouth.  
“I’m sorry you were worried, Dean…”  
Cas pauses, watching as Dean’s face remains worried, angry, upset; he realizes in that moment that he can’t tell Dean the truth. Cas can’t tell him that he’s going to lose his parents if he doesn’t get married, that they would never accept Castiel knocking a woman up and not marrying her because he’s too in love with a man. He can’t tell Dean that, because he knows that it would only make things worse- it’s an excuse, and shows that Castiel doesn’t really want to do this…which would mean that maybe Dean could talk him out of it.  
And Cas can’t give Dean that chance, because he knows that unless Dean hates him…unless Dean doesn’t want him anymore, there’s no way that Cas could give him up. He needs Dean to not want him so that he can walk away, because every ounce of his body is shrieking at him to kiss Dean, kiss him hard and never let go. Fuck the consequences; because this is love, this is all you’ll ever need.  
But then, there’s a tiny voice deep down inside of him that rings out with an uncomfortable truth. Cas holds so many lives in his hands in this moment, Gabriel’s, his parents, Meg’s and their child’s…and Dean’s. He has to choose, and no matter how gut wrenchingly painful the choice may be, he can’t choose Dean. He can’t lose his parents, can’t make Gabriel lose them either, and even though he may hate Meg with the fire of a thousand burning suns- the chance to have a child…his child, is not something that he could pass up.  
‘You don’t get to love Castiel…you made this mistake, this is your punishment. Let Dean hate you, let him never want to see you again, so that he won’t hurt as much when you walk away.’  
“…We need to talk…can we go sit down?”  
Cas doesn’t touch the hands that are still gripping his lapels, and looks at Dean with an impassive face, emotionally stoic.  
*  
From the moment Cas had showed up on his doorstep, the moment he just looked at him in silence while Dean yelled and vented his spleen on him - from that very moment, Dean had known that something was wrong. That this was not Cas coming back but Cas coming by, Cas on a mission, with a purpose. He lets go of his coat, hands falling to his sides, as he looks back at his fiance, taking a step back slowly. He turns around then, walking inside the living-room but not sitting down. He can’t sit down, not when Cas is looking at him like somebody had died, like the world is ending. Cas sits down on the couch where they first had had sex in Dean’s apartment and Dean has to swallow down the lump in his throat and avert his eyes, in order to breathe steadily again. When his gaze returns to his lover, the miserable expression is still on Castiel’s face and it makes Dean’s chest contrict with pain and fear.  
“Cas, what’s wrong?”, he asks and compared to his heated, aggressive accusations just a few minutes ago, his tone now is soft, broken, almost intimidated.  
*  
The way Dean asks him what’s wrong tears at his chest, shooting pains around his heart like it was wrapped in barbed wire that was tightened with every word from Dean’s mouth.  
“…Meg’s pregnant”, he says, and swallows down the lump that automatically built up in his throat.  
“…We’re going to get married…and raise the child…our child, together. I’m sorry but this is the last time I can see you Dean.”  
He shifts slightly, his hands moving from where they had been placed flat over the tops of his thighs to keep them from shaking to the bag he’d brought with him. He pulls out the notebook and sets it on the table, then takes off the ring he had worn every day since he’d given Dean his, and sets it on top of the notebook.  
“I’ll let you decide what you want to do with these, but I can’t keep them any longer.”  
He hates this, hates how cold and distant he sounds, how unemotional. Cas feels a dull ache in his chest now, numbing himself to the pain forcefully, knowing that if he didn’t he might as well curl up and die right there on the couch. Everything hurt now, thinking about Dean and their past. He couldn’t keep the notebook, so filled with memories, nor the engagement ring- his broken promise to always be there for Dean a reminder in etched metal around his finger.  
Castiel couldn’t keep them, knowing that seeing them every day would tear a hole in his chest that would fester, leave a gaping scarred wound that would never heal. As it is, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to wake up in the mornings not thinking Dean would be there, and then cry when he wasn’t like he had for the last three days. Maybe this way, with as many reminders of this beautiful boy out of his house as possible, maybe it would be easier.  
Castiel knows it’s a lie… but sometimes lies make you feel better, if only for a moment.  
*  
This is a joke.  
It has to be.  
Dean’s hands are trembling, his eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking, unseeing.  
He shakes his head softly, watching Castiel pull out the notebook and take off the ring - their ring - as if in slow motion. His mouth opens but not a word comes over his lips, his throat to dry to make a sound. He’d avoided looking at Castiel until now, until his heart feels like jumping out of his chest from pure and utter terror. He takes a step towards him, stops, not sure what to do, not sure how to react.  
This has to be a joke.  
“You don’t mean that”, he says and is surprised that his voice seems so calm, so composed.  
He bends down to push the items on the coffee table back in Castiel’s direction, looking at him out of green eyes, so full of concern and confusion. As he stands back up, he feels Castiel’s eyes following him and there’s something in them, something that lets Dean hope for just a second.  
“This isn’t funny, Cas. I-..I’ve no idea what I did wrong to have you trying to freak me out but….. it’s not funny.”  
He walks around the table, sitting down on the couch next to Cas, one hand reaching out to take one of his, resting loosely on his thigh. Cas flinches back and Dean stares at him, eyes wide in disbelief.  
“….Cas?”  
But Cas doesn’t say anything. He pulls his hand back as far as possible before getting up, grabbing his now empty bag and heading towards the door. Dean is up on his feet in a matter of seconds, following the other man outside, grabbing his jacket sleeve and holding him back.  
“Cas - you..you can’t be serious…..”  
He can see the pain on Cas’ face now. He’s trying to hide it, trying to stay calm, cold, but Dean can see it. He knows this man, maybe better than he knows himself. Dean’s grip on Castiel’s jacket tightens, clinging desperately to him.  
“Y-you can’t do this to me, Cas..not now, not….. not after all we’ve been through! Cas…. Cas I love you, I love you, you know that? I love you, I’m sorry, whatever I did, Cas, I’m sorry. Let me..give me a chance, tell me….. I’ll do anything, Cas, anything but please… please don’t leave me, I love you, please don’t leave me, Cas!”  
He can feel hot tears on his cheeks now, can feel them gliding down and dropping on his neck, soaking the collar of his tee but he doesn’t care, can’t care, when his eyes are on Castiel’s face, watching the way those crystal blue orbs flare with something that might be regret or pain or love, his lips opened slightly in an attempt to speak.  
Dean let’s his forehead sink against Castiel’s chest, his tears running without hesitation now.  
“Don’t leave me, please..I-..I’ll die without you, Cas……”  
*  
Cas hesitates for a moment, then wraps his arms around Dean and hugs him tight, a broken sob coming out as he kisses the top of Dean’s hair.  
“I’m so sorry Dean….”  
He speaks quietly, his voice utterly wrecked as he whispers the words against Dean’s hair.  
“I never wanted this…..”  
Cas pulls back, pushing Dean away with a strong hand to his chest.  
“This is something I have to do. I am going to marry Meg, and we are going to raise our child. The….the baby deserves that…a Father, and Mother. I won’t be a deadbeat Dad who leaves the Mother of his child alone. That’s not who I am, not who I want to be.”  
He swallows hard, preparing himself for the blow he knew he was going to have to deal in order to make this final; the words he would have to say to make Dean hate him.  
“…You knew what this was going in Dean…you said it…you didn’t care that I had a girlfriend…she didn’t ever need to know…that nobody needed to know.”  
He clears his throat and lifts his head slightly, his heart breaking on the inside even as he turns to marble on the outside, completely stone cold as he speaks.  
“I let this carry on for too long. I’m sorry for that. I should have ended it months ago.”  
His heart rails against his rational mind, hating every single word that leaves his mouth, every foul lie that he throws at Dean. Beautiful, wonderful, kind Dean. The boy that Castiel never should have had, never deserved to love.  
And now here he was, crushing him beneath the heel of his boot like he wasn’t the single most important thing Cas had ever had.  
There are other things to think of now though… the child, and his parents… Gabriel. Dean deserves more than someone who would give him up because he couldn’t risk losing his parents. He deserves more than what Cas can give him.  
*  
Castiel’s words are like a slap in the face, like a punch in the chest, they have him fighting for air. He stumbles back, his feet shuffling over the even ground until he hits the dresser on the right side of the corridor. The spark is gone, when he looks back up into Cas’ eyes, the fire dead, replaced by grim, cold ice.  
Cas is serious.  
The realization hits him like a ton of bricks and suddenly the dryness is gone, the helplessness making way for something he can deal with better, something he’s used to. Blind fury.  
“So it was all a lie?”, he yells, glaring at Castiel, who’s standing by the door, showing nothing but mild displeasure at the situation “That you love me? That you wanted to marry me?!?”  
He plunges towards Cas, hands finding his collar and yanking him forwards, until their faces were only inches apart. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, nothing more than a hiss, full of disappointment and disgust and hate.  
“Fine. Go. I don’t need you. Me ‘n Sam were just fine before you and your brother showed up. So fuck. Off. And if you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back, you hear me?”  
He lets go of Castiel’s coat, opens the door and shoves him outside, slamming the door shut behind him with a loud ‘bang’. There’s quiet noises coming from Sam’s bedroom but Dean doesn’t notice. He’s staring at the door, waiting, hoping, praying. Cas can’t leave him. Not like this. In the back of his mind he still can’t believe that this is anything but a sick joke. That the door would open any moment and that Cas would pull him into his strong arms and kiss him and make him forget. But there’s only silence. Silence and pain.  
Sam steps out into the corridor, rubbing his eyes and asking what’s wrong but Dean doesn’t answer. He’s out the door, running towards the elevator in the next second, just as the doors are closing. Cursing he turns the corner, pushing open the door to the staircase and running, taking four steps at a time, stumbling, scraping up his knee, biting his tongue and running. Cas is getting into his car, when Dean reaches the ground floor, scurrying over to bang his fists against the car window.  
“I’M SORRY CAS! I’M SORRY! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME, I LOVE YOU, PLEASE!!”  
But Cas doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at him. He turns the keys, starts the car and steers it onto the street, leaving Dean standing by the sidewalk, shaking and crying and screaming for him to come back. Dean can feel slender arms wrapping around his body and as Sam pulls him into a tight embrace, he just lets go and cries.  
Cas is gone.


	21. Chapter 21

The bitter ache in Castiel’s chest as he rides home in complete silence is so strong for a few moments he thinks he’s having a panic attack. Before he gets home, he stops on the side of the road, on Highway 280, and throws on his hazard lights. The weather seems to match his mood, as almost instantly rain starts to fall…first slow, a light drizzle, but before a few minutes have passed Cas it caught in a downpour on the side of the road, the rain beating out a violent rhythm on the roof of his car. He sobs then, screaming as he leans his head against the steering wheel, everything he’d kept inside while he held it together in front of Dean coming rushing out in hiccuping sobs and the kind of screams that speak of torment at the soul level.  
Castiel has lost Dean.  
And it’s all his fault.  
He cries until there’s nothing left to give, until all that comes out of him are dry, heaving sobs. Cas cries until the rain stops, until a rainbow arcs over the freeway, mocking him in it’s heavenly beauty, it’s cheerful nature a stain on an otherwise hellish day.  
Castiel drives home then, and walks inside, ignoring Meg as she tries to talk to him in favor of going to his room and shutting and locking the door. It was for her own safety, hers and the child’s. Castiel saw red when he looked at her now, the fury and bitter bile that came up in the back of his throat from just the sight of Meg leading him to acknowledge that there was something dark in him, that he couldn’t trust just now.  
He needs distance, some time away from Dean, and every single thing that reminded Castiel of just what he’d lost.  
He calls the school and explains his absence, stating that he’d been in a delirious state and his girlfriend hadn’t thought to call for him. They give him two weeks off of school, and tell him to take care of himself. Castiel even gets to hand pick his replacement, and he choices a kind older woman by the name of Missouri who was an art therapist for a local hospital, but sometimes taught schoolkids on a volunteer basis.  
That taken care of, Cas sits in his room, staring at drawn shades, the patterns of the sun that come in muted from the cloud cover. He stares at the blinds until the sun slips down, until the colors shift to oranges and pinks outside, and then slowly the room is cast into darkness. Only when he hears Meg leave for work does he venture outside of his bedroom, to eat something in the darkness of the too large dining room, at a vacant table that held more place settings than there were people in the house. Like everything else in his life at the moment, even the cold dark wood table mocked him, telling him that even with a child in his life, it would never be enough. Meg isn’t someone he could love, but after what he’d done to Dean, does Castiel even deserve the possibility of love?  
No…he can’t say that he does. Cas leaves his food untouched, and goes to bed on an empty stomach that aches, but fails in comparison to the throbbing tightness in his chest.  
How could he hope to be a Father…to teach his son or daughter right from wrong, when he chose a family of bigots over the only person in his life to ever love him wholly and completely?  
What kind of man does that?  
Castiel lies there on his bed with his conscience battling itself over and over, defending and belittling his actions until he can take no more, and drifts away into a black, dreamless sleep.  
*  
Dean can’t remember how long he’d been out here. His knees are bloody and scraped up, the skin burning where it touches the wet pavement in front of their apartment house. There’s people looking out of their windows, and despite the late hour a few pedestrians stopping to see what’s going on. Dean thinks he hears Sam yelling at them, shooing them away but Dean doesn’t care. At any other time he’d feel angry, ashamed, humiliated. But all he feels now is pain. He can’t hear his heart beating anymore, just as if it had stopped the moment Cas had turned on the engine and drove away. There’s only dull static filling his head now, where once the echo of Castiel’s voice had been whispering quiet words of affection over and over. Sam pulls him closer, his hands stroking soothingly over his back but Dean can’t find the strength to return the embrace, to do anything else but cry. Somehow, sometime, Sam manages to get him to stand up, to wrap his arm around his shoulders and let him guide him back inside. He sits onto his bed without talking back, lets Sam clean the small wound on his knee and push him down, before pulling the blanket over his shaking body. He doesn’t say anything, when Sam slips into bed next to him, arms wrapped loosely around his torso, his breath soft and warm in his neck. Dean lets out a shuddering sigh and breathes, for what feels like the first time since Cas had left. He twitches in his brother’s embrace, biting his lip to hold back a desperate, strangled sob. He squeezes his eyes shut and for a moment it almost feels like it’s Cas, who’s holding him. It isn’t Cas, though. It never would be Cas.  
The rest of the week is nothing but a blur to Dean. He doesn’t leave his bedroom except to go to the bathroom and Sam has to practically force him to eat and drink. Sam also calls the school, reporting Dean sick and takes care of the household, cooks, does the dishes and everything else. He doesn’t try speaking with him and Dean is grateful. They both know now how heartbreak feels. Both experienced it within a couple weeks from members of the same family. Somehow this helps, Dean doesn’t know why. It makes him think that it’s partly his own fault for not seeing it before. If Gabriel had done it with Sam, why wouldn’t Cas leave Dean too? He cries a lot in the following days, not even caring about closing his door. Cause Sam knows. Would know even if he hid in the corner of his room and didn’t make a sound. Dean stays at home for the next week as well and slowly, very slowly, it starts getting… better. There’s no real reason, no trigger. But one morning he wakes up and for at least five minutes he doesn’t think of Cas, doesn’t remember what had happened the week ago. He returns to school two and a half weeks after he and Cas had broken up. His classmates ask where he’d been and Dean decides not to let them see in what bad condition he’d been. When the door of the arts room opens and Castiel walks in, Dean feels like all air got sucked out of him at once. He averts his eyes, looking down on his empty notebook. He’d thrown away the notebook he and Cas had shared. The ring was safely stuffed in the corner of an old box, together with pictures and small, personal belongings of his and Sam’s parents. He couldn’t bring it over his heart to throw it away too. When their eyes meet for the first time in almost 3 weeks, Castiel’s words echo in his head.  
‘You’re my Northern star, Dean. You guide me home. You are home to me.’  
Dean bites his lip and averts his gaze again, looking over to one of his classmates and throwing a crumpled pellet of paper at him. Anything. Anything not to have to look at the man who stole his heart and then crushed it without hesitation.  
*  
The past week and a half had been like an extended torture session for Castiel. He lived with a woman he hated, who kept flipping from hell beast to the kinder version of herself that he had once liked enough to rent a house with, to stay with. Meg vacillated between screaming harpy and sweet Susie homemaker what seemed like every five minutes. It wore Cas down, so by the time he came back to school a little less than two weeks later, his eyes were bloodshot and there were deep dark circles under them.  
That wasn’t the worst of it though. Cas knew he could learn to deal with Meg’s psychotic bipolar nature, given enough time and enough meditation. It was the knowledge that he had lost the love of his life that weighed heavily on him, made his cheeks sunken from lack of food, and his whole body slumped and huddled in on itself as if for warmth. Cas was a shell of the man he had been when he was with Dean, so much so that the Principal of the school didn’t hesitate to believe that he had indeed been sick the whole two weeks he had been gone. In fact, she wondered if he should take more time off. Castiel had declined, stating that he wanted to get back to work, needed to. Somewhere in the back of his mind there was the tiniest prodding that made him return to work, even though his body urged him to stay home and rest. The tiny voice wanted to see Dean, as sick and self destructive as it was, and knew that the only place that would happen would be at the school. So Cas returns and apologizes for his absence; he laughs a hollow laugh when a student asks if he got the plague because he looks like a zombie. Cas refrains from saying he feels like one as well- there was no life, no light, left in him now. Cas had let the light leave his life when he’d walked away from Dean; and now he had to live alone in the dark with what he’d done.  
The only thing that kept him going was knowing that in around five months he would be a Father. That was the single solitary pinpoint of light in his days; the idea that all this hurt and pain at least had one good thing come from it. Even if the child’s Mother had turned out to be one of the nastiest people Cas had ever had the misfortune to meet, the child would still be his. That got him through the days when it hurt so much just to get out of bed that he felt like dying, rather than living another second with the vast empty hole in his chest where his heart used to be. Where it used to beat out a rhythm that sounded out ‘De-Dean, De-Dean’ whenever Castiel had his arms wrapped around the boy’s strong frame.  
Seeing Dean again after a week and a half of torture would have broken Cas… If he had anything left to give. The words that ran through his mind as he scanned the room and took role call were simple. ‘You did this. You deserve this. Let him hate you, at least give him that’ So Cas says nothing to Dean the entire class, hands back assignments with a professionalism that verges on ice cold. At the end of the period as the bell is ringing he tells the students to use something from their lives recently as inspiration for the next assignment- abstract art. It would be due Friday, which would give them a few days to get it done.  
Cas goes and sits at his desk, takes out his phone and reads the text that had just showed up with a small vibration in his pocket.  
Meg: remember doctor’s this afternoon! 3pm, pick me up by 2:30! Don’t be late!!!  
*  
Dean doesn’t know what he’d expected. But whatever hope there might have been before he first saw Cas again, it’s now crushed. Cas pays no attention to him throughout the whole class, doesn’t ignore him, looks at him, but doesn’t acknowledge at all what once had been between them. Or at least what Dean had thought had been there… When the bell rings and Dean grabs his bag and hurries outside, he feels tears in the corners of his eyes again.  
The rest of the day is painfully uneventful and a sigh of relief escapes his throat, as he closes the door behind Sammy and him, after picking him up from school and driving him home. They have dinner in the living-room, watching TV, as they quietly munch their meals. Sam checks on him before going to bed, pulling the door to his room closed after wishing him a good night. Dean’s sitting on the bed, back resting against the headboard, staring at his new sketchbook. Abstract art. A recent event. Dean racks his brain but there’s nothing there, nothing but horror and pain and regret and Cas. It’s already 1am when Dean gets up, seemingly without reason, without a trigger, gets his oil paint and a canvas from behind his cupboard, then takes a couple of tubes, bright, cheerful colors, and opens them, squeezing the paint onto the page. He drops the tubes, then reaches down with both hands, smearing the paint all over the canvas, mixing them until the whole page is one colorful potpourri. He looks down at it, breathing heavy, wiping sweat off his forehead, his hand leaving a small streak of blue on his face. Then he takes the black paint tube, opens it and empties it on the canvas wholly, wiping the color over it until the colors are gone, blended with the dark color to a dirty, grey mess. He gets up, taking the box out of his desk and pulling out the ring, Cas’ ring. He’s crying again and when he bends down to press the ring in the middle of the slowly drying paint, his tears fall down on the painting, leaving barely noticable traces at the corner of the canvas. He goes to bed without washing his hands, painting lying on the ground, a veridical portrayal of Dean’s feelings.  
*  
Dean leaves the classroom, and suddenly Cas can breathe again. It’s a painful feeling, every breath inhaled into lungs that felt too full in a too small ribcage. The rest of the day goes without incident, but Dean is always in the back of Cas’ mind. Every shade of green reminds him of Dean’s eyes, and every dimpled smile on someone else’s face just mocks him- they’re never as perfect as Dean’s is. Was. For Castiel. And would never be again. He had made sure of that.  
The ride to the Doctor’s office that afternoon is quiet, from Cas’ side of the car. From Meg’s there was nothing but chatter, a constant stream of noise about wedding favors and invitations, a nursery and changing their previous separate lives into one ‘happy family’. Cas wants to puke, but knows it would be dry, as he hadn’t eaten anything all day anyway.  
Once they arrive at the appointment, things go smoothly. The doctor weighs Meg, asks her how far along she thinks she is.  
“24 weeks or so I think, Doctor.”  
A frown flickers over the doctor’s face.  
“Hmm… You’re a little light for 24 weeks… Alright, let’s get you into this gown and the technician will be right in to help you with the sonogram.”  
It goes well, and while the baby is a little small, it’s developing perfectly. The little heartbeat, fast as a frightened bird’s, makes tears come to Cas’ eyes. Meg holds his hand, and for the first time since they broke up, he let’s her touch him.  
The ride home is quiet, from both sides of the car, each thinking their own private thoughts. Meg tries to coax Cas to her bed that night, claiming she always slept better with someone beside her. Cas declines, and goes to his room, shuts and locks the door. He doesn’t love her, and never would. The last thing he needs is to give Meg hope that their relationship would be anything but platonic- a convenience for their child. He falls asleep that night thinking about their baby; but he dreams of a child with fair hair, freckles, and green blue eyes.  
Friday comes quickly- the morning class has all of their paintings up on display by the time Cas rushes in the door, having overslept, he’s 15 minutes late to class. His hair is a mess, and he had thrown on jeans and a white button up over a sky blue shirt.  
“Sorry sorry! I know I know I’m late. Thanks for putting your work up everyone, let’s go around and present them. Talk about your piece but only if you want to. You can always pass. Um- Jo? You want to start us off?”  
Cas sits on the edge of his desk, running a hand through his hair and trying his hardest not to look at Dean, even though he wanted to with every ticking muscle in his overly warm body.  
*  
He barely pays attention to the people presenting their artwork in front of the class, some of them proud, some sad about what it’s showing. When everyone is done and Cas finally says his name, looks at him directly, Dean hesitates just a moment, unsure if he’d be able to do this. He gets up silently, walking to the front of the classroom where his painting was leaning on a scaffold. He licks his lips, tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, before speaking.  
“A few weeks ago I lost something….. someone I cared about. We had something… something special, something I’ve never experienced before.”  
He stops, turning around slowly to face his painting, not bearing to see the look of indifference on the face of the man he still loves more than his life.  
“But then again I should’ve known… that I don’t get to be happy, that I don’t get to keep this..this gift…..”  
He raises a hand, stroking the few colorful streaks of paint at the edges of the canvas.  
“He took all the color and replaced it with darkness..and fuck, I know how fucking cheesy it sounds, go ahead and laugh at me - but if you do then you’ve got no idea how bad it hurts. How it makes you wanna rip out your heart just to make it stop hurting.”  
He spins around again. No one is laughing. There’s a flash of something on Cas’ face but Dean doesn’t linger to figure it out, walking back to his seat without another word. He grabs his bag and leaves the room, just a few seconds before the bell rings.  
He scurries into the men’s room and bends over the sink, throwing a few hands of ice cold water into his face. There’s a sound of a toilet flushing, then a lock being opened and footsteps on the tiled floor. Dean knows the boy from basketball, Rick something, tall, dark hair, big brown eyes. He doesn’t think when he grabs his collar and yanks him back into the stall he’d just came out and slides his hand down his pants. There’s just a little resistance, before Rick gives in, sighing, his hands letting go of Dean’s wrist and sliding to his sides. Dean sinks to his knees then and pulls his pants off, lips wrapping around his cock in seconds. Rick grabs his hair and Dean moans. This is what he knows, this is what he can do, what he always could do. And for the first time in weeks Dean doesn’t feel empty anymore……  
*  
Cas walks after Dean, having seen the ring, stuck in the center of Dean’s pain that showed through his painting. There is nothing he could say to make it better, to stop Dean from hurting so bad, but his body moves on auto-pilot after the boy, a rushed ‘I’ll see you all on Monday!’ thrown to his students as he hurries out the door after Dean. He barely manages to see where Dean goes, disappearing around a corner and then vanishes from the now slowly filling hallway by the time Cas gets there. He stops in the hallway, frowning, and then takes a chance on the nearest door- the boy’s bathroom. At first glance there’s no one there, the bathroom empty- but one of the stalls is closed…. and there are two people in there. One is standing and the other… Castiel’s teacher’s instinct kicks in and he takes two swift steps toward the stall to shove the door open and give whoever was in there a piece of his mind and then drag them to the principal’s office. He freezes though when he hears a low groan, and then a hitched sound and another moan, this one very clearly a name. “A-nhhh… Dean…”  
Castiel thought he had been in pain before, with the knowledge that he would never again hold Dean close, sleep next to him and kiss away the frown lines from his brow. He thought that had been painful. Hearing someone else moan his Fiance… ex-Fiance’s name like that though? It’s like a hot poker stabbed straight through his chest into his heart, burning it and pinning it to the back of his torso in the cruelest game of darts ever. ‘Dean’, that boy moans, and Cas feels his knees go weak with something he couldn’t name, all he knows is that it hurts, and the air has suddenly gone from the room. A strangled sob barely escapes his lips, and then he’s turning around and rushing out the door, and out into the parking lot to his car.  
He needs to get out of there, out of this place with its memories and feelings, everything revolving around the green eyed beauty that he no longer got to call his. Cas drives straight home, and is surprised when there’s a car he doesn’t recognize in the driveway. Maybe it’s a friend of Meg’s? Well, as long as they left him alone, he doesn’t care who it is. That’s what he tells himself, until he opens the front door and is confronted by the sight of a strange man with a round face, black hair and a sneer, pounding away at the Mother of Cas’ child. Meg cries out as she clings to the dining room table, their dining room table, shouting what could only be the man’s name over and over again, her shrill voice breaking the constant slap of skin on skin that made Cas queasy.  
“FUCKFUCKYESYESOHGODYESCROWLEYESFUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKMEEEE!”  
The man snarls and yells back at her ‘Shut up slag!’ in a thick British accent. And then he pulls out, and comes on Meg’s surprised face, as only a split second before she had finally noticed Castiel, standing shocked in the doorway. Meg’s face immediately falls, and she scrambles off the table towards Cas.  
“Baby… Baby it’s not what it looks like-“  
She reaches for Cas but he flinches away and then glares at her, jaw set and ticking with a muscle that shows up in his jawline.  
“Don’t.”  
“But, Castiel…”  
“NO, Meg. No.”  
Crowley has the humility to throw on a pair of boxers before he saunters over, smirk on his lips.  
“You Castiel?”  
“Yes… Who are you?”  
“Name’s Crowley. I’m Meg’s employer… and the man who’s been givin’ it to her for the last 8 months…”  
He lights a cigarette and takes a drag as Cas vibrates with anger.  
“She wanted to marry you, and then divorce your sorry ass the minute she would inherit half of your parent’s money…”  
Meg has shrunk in on herself, the defense mechanism of a do in trouble. Cas turns to glare at her, teeth gritted.  
“Is this true?…IS IT?”  
She opens her mouth to protest but then Cas shakes his head, holding up his hand.  
“You know what? I don’t care. I don’t give a flying fuck if you take her. Please, have her.”  
Crowley nods to Cas and walks away to collect his clothes. Meg starts crying silently, arms wrapped around her naked breasts, the slight swell of her belly mocking Cas now.  
“Let me guess… baby’s not even mine, is it?”  
Meg freezes for a second, looking like she was going to argue, but then seems to think the better of it and shakes her head, looking down at the ground. Cas takes a deep shuddering breath.  
“So I lost him for…. nothing.”  
“…him?”  
“The love of my life, you stupid lying bitch.”  
“Is a him?… Oh…OH. Oh this is good this is… This is GOOD.”  
“What?”  
“I’m going to tell your parents about your little foray into being a fucking faggot- unless you promise to still marry me and take care of this child.”  
Cas steps up into Meg’s personal space, backing her up against a wall without laying a finger on her. Castiel’s eyes are dangerously dark when he speaks, voice dead calm.  
“Tell them. Tell the world. I’m not ashamed of him, of what we had. It was perfect, before you came sneaking back into my life with your filthy lies and disgusting self.”  
Meg’s lower lip trembles and she looks away from Cas.  
“I’m leaving… and when I get back you will be gone. I’ll move out, but I need you gone while I pack… I want to punch your face in, and my baby or not, I won’t let myself kill you. You aren’t worth the JAIL TIME.”  
Cas turns around and exits the apartment, slamming the door so hard it makes a framed picture of Cas and Meg fall off the wall and shatter.  
He drives for hours, what feels like all day, until it gets dark. Then his body goes on autopilot again, and he ends up in the Haight, wandering from bar to bar until they kick him out for picking a fight, or annoying other customers. His third bar just happens to be where he met Dean for the first time. In his drunken haze, Cas decides the best way to celebrate that fact is with tequila shots. Lots of them.


	22. Chapter 22

By the time school’s over, Dean has blown three guys and let two of them fuck him. It doesn’t feel as good as it used to but he figures that’s just because he isn’t used to it. More. He needs more. He picks up Sam at 4, they have dinner and Sam does his homework, while Dean gets into his room, picking out some clothes for the night. Sam had looked at him with genuine concern, seeming very close to ask him if he thought going out was a good idea. He doesn’t ask, though, and Dean is grateful.  
He leaves the apartment at 11pm, meeting up with a couple of his basketball friends and some of their friends. Dean leads the small group into The Haight, ordering a round of shots for everyone. It only takes him half an hour, countless shots and a handful other drinks to get drunk. It feels good. Familiar, safe.  
Before long he’s lying on top of the bar, bartenders only tolerating this because he’s coming here regularly. There’s two guys hovering over him, one of them licking tequila out of his belly button, the other, nipping and biting at his neck. He’s staring at the ceiling, soft sighs perishing in the loud Techno music. Someone’s pulling him down and into his arms and his quiet ‘Cas?’ stays unheard, as one of the guys half carries, half drags him over to the backrooms.  
They stop halfway, the guy pressing Dean against a wall and trying to kiss him. Dean tilts his head to the side, strangled sound escaping his lips. Then his hands are on the guy’s cock, rubbing his palm over it. For a moment there Dean thinks he saw something……. someone slender and pale, with dark hair and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. He shakes his head, returning his attention on the guy he’s currently making out with.  
Their eyes meet again and Dean leans in and kisses him. He doesn’t stop, when he feels like puking, like crying and hurting himself. He kisses him harder, turning them around to push him against the wall, before sinking to his knees, teeth dragging the zipper of his pants down painfully slow.  
*  
Castiel was on his second beer and fifth shot at this bar alone by the time he sees Dean, blurring by with a man in his hands. Cas turns to follow them, thinking with through his alcohol induced haze that maybe he was imagining this- Dean couldn’t be doing this… Why would he do this? Why would he be here, of all places? Cas stumbles to his feet and walks after them, moving quickly for someone who was well over the legal limit. He grabs Dean’s shoulder and yanks, pulling Dean away from the other man’s pants, the sound when Dean’s teeth clack together lost in the throbbing pulse of the music. Cas is wide eyed as he stares down at Dean. He opens his mouth and closes it several times, like a gulping fish struggling for air, and then finally blurts out  
“Why are you throwing yourself away like this?”  
He holds his hands out, expressive, to his sides shaking his head minutely. This isn’t the Dean he knew; this boy in front of him, about to go down on the second man that Cas knew of, most likely another stranger. Cas feels his heart clench as he stares down at the boy he was still so desperately in love with.  
“You are worth so much more than this Dean…”  
Cas almost whispers it, his words slurring together as he stares down at Dean, eyes watering in the darkness of the club.  
*  
Dean feels a hand on his shoulder and the next moment he’s pulled back, stumbling on his feet and falling against a group of people. He mumbles an apology before turning back to look at whoever had done this. When he realizes it’s Cas, he feels his heart sinking. The man’s words are quiet and so full of pain but Dean doesn’t even notice. He takes a quick step forwards, flat hand against Castiel’s chest, and shoves him backwards against the wall next to where his current fling is still standing.  
“Oh, I am?”, he snarls, lothing smile on his full lips “Last time I checked you threw me away like some piece of garbage. Well, as you can see I’m still pretty good at not being alone so, why don’t you fuck off and ruin someone else’s life?”  
He turns his back on Cas, successfully shutting him out, his whole attention back on the other guy. Cas’ hand is on his shoulder once more and Dean doesn’t even turn around this time, just shrugs it off, ignoring the shaky ‘Dean..please….’ and lunging forward, hand sliding into the guy’s pants and lips finding his for a hungry, devouring kiss. His heart’s pounding against his ribcage at the thought of Cas watching them, watching him kissing somebody else but he chooses to ignore the pain in his own chest.  
*  
Cas squeezes his eyes shut against the images in front of him, the searing pain that laces through him making his chest constrict until he can’t breathe. Cas stumbles outside, barely making it to the curb before he pukes, everything blurring around the edges as he passes out leaning against a newspaper stand. Castiel comes back to the world an hour later when someone shakes him awake, having called a cab for him. It’s a random stranger from the club, and the drunken smile that he gives the stranger cracks around the edges as he remembers why he’s so drunk in the first place. He climbs clumsily into the cab and gives the driver his address. Cas spends the night on the floor of the bathroom, puking until there’s nothing left but dry heaves that hurt his stomach and only make him cry harder. The only thing that he’s thankful for in that moment is Meg’s nightshift which leaves him alone in the house, and the cold tile floor which he curls up on to sleep.  
The sun is just coming up when Cas wakes up with a splitting headache, everything too loud, too bright. Too real. He walks slowly to his bedroom, calls in sick to work, and then sleeps half of the day away, ignoring Meg’s pleading at his door for ten minutes when she gets home. The next call he makes when he wakes up is quite possibly the hardest call he’s ever made.  
“Mom?… I… Something happened. I need… Can I please come home?”  
If his voice breaks as he tells the story about catching Meg cheating on him, and he let’s his Mother believe that’s really why he’s sobbing into the phone, then that was his prerogative. If he doesn’t explain that he feels like he was rotting from the inside out because he’s lost the most amazing boy, the most fantastic person he’s ever met… then that was Castiel’s business. His Mother agrees that he can come home, her words a small band-aid on everything that had happened to Cas in the past few days.  
“Come home honey, get out of that house, away from that.. that trollop. We’ll see you tonight okay? Make up your old room for you alright?”  
Cas swallows down the lump of words he wants to say down and simply thanks her before hanging up, and burying his face into his pillow. He sobs out everything he can, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to cry once he moved back in with his parents. Crying is a sign of weakness, and according to his Father, real men don’t cry. The only time Cas had never felt like a real man was the moment he told Dean that he should have ended what they had months ago, when he’d ignored the boy’s pleas not to leave. Castiel cries, begging in stuttering sobs to whatever deity was listening.  
‘Please, please, just give me this one thing… just please… if I can’t have him, if he isn’t meant for me… please protect him until he finds the one he is meant for…’  
*  
That night Dean doesn’t leave the back room for a very long time. The guy - Dean still doesn’t know his name and it doesn’t matter - fucks him several times, hard, relentless, without hesistance and regard to what Dean wants. And Dean stays quiet, just moans or cries out in what his partner thinks is pleasure but is blinding, indescribably painful heartbreak. When the guy leave’s him alone, Dean isn’t able to stand up, to lock the door, his whole body sore from the hours of pounding, of taking. Dean falls asleep, the thought of the risks of doing so in this place only weakly in the back of his mind. It’s a miracle that he wakes up, still alone, from what he can perceive untouched. He scrambles to his feet, putting on his clothes and leaves the room, makes his way through the dancing crowd and exits the club. He barely can walk so he calls himself a cab, paying cash when the driver helps him getting out of the car in front of his apartment house. When he finally slumps onto his bed, he feels horrible, numb, dead inside. He figures it’s best like this. At least the pain is gone. At least for a few hours he would be able to sleep, to forget, to pretend everything is okay…  
Sam softly shakes him awake the next morning and when Dean opens his eyes reluctantly he realizes that Sam’s been here all night. There’s a bucket next to his bed and several damp towels, a wet, cool washcloth on Dean’s forehead and he can’t stop tears from springing to his eyes. Sam lets him cry without saying anything, just reaches for the tray standing on Dean’s bedside table, helping Dean to sit up a bit and handing him a cup of coffee.  
Dean doesn’t go to school that day, wouldn’t be able to if he wanted, cause Sam’s glaring at him, ordering him to stay in bed. Sam calls Dean’s school office to let them know about his absence and then takes the train to school, leaving Dean behind with the worst hangover and a head full of self-destructive thoughts. He doesn’t remember much of last night but he remembers blue eyes, knows that Cas had been there, sweet, loving, tender, gentle Cas. He remembers the guy he took to the back room asking who he was, remembers how his mind had raced at the question.  
‘He’s the person who believed in me, when I couldn’t. He’s the one who gave me hope when all there was was darkness. He’s saved my life, made me complete, taught me everything. He made me see the light, made me want to be loved. he’s my first, my one, my only love.’  
“Nobody”, he’d said and started working on the guy’s shirt buttons “now fuck me.”  
*  
Castiel moves out of his and Meg’s house that night, taking everything that meant anything to him, which meant leaving 90% of his life behind. He leaves Meg a note telling her that she could have everything they bought together, and that he genuinely hoped she would figure out what she wanted in life. His final sentence instructed her to get a DNA test if she still wanted to claim the child was Castiel’s; he wouldn’t believe it without one now. Moving home with light baggage and the heaviest heart he’s ever had was tough. Tougher still was his Father berating him for leaving at all.  
“So? She cheated on you. Big deal. Man up Castiel. If you want something, or someone, bad enough, you need to be man enough to fight for it!”  
The pain and anger that went through him at that statement had nothing to do with his ex-girlfriend, and everything to do with his ex-Fiance. Dean. He had showed Cas at least twice now that he didn’t need nor want Castiel back in his life; even if Dean had been speaking from a place of hurt it didn’t change the outcome. His words had pierced Cas, left him replaying them over and over on a loop that he was sure was going to slowly drive him insane from grief. Castiel could see only one course of action after this, only one way to end this that would be best for both of them. Dean could move on to someone who actually deserved his love, and Cas could submerge himself in his work and ignore the hollow ache that spoke to him whenever he was alone.  
So he calls Gabriel that night after settling in to his old bed, and explains everything that happened, crying quietly throughout the whole conversation.  
*  
Gabriel calls Sam around 11 that night, flushing slightly and trying to maintain his cool when he hears Sam’s sleepy “mm-H’lo?”  
“Hiya kiddo.. sorry to be calling so late.”  
“Gabriel..? This… is this really you?”  
Gabe sighs, hating the hurt he could hear in Sam, his voice tight and strained.  
“… Yeah Sammy… it’s me…. you know… you know m’sorry, right?”  
There’s silence and for a moment Gabriel thinks they lost their connection until he hears the tiniest noise of agreement. He sighs, and they slowly start talking. Gabriel gets Sam’s version of the story, everything that happened between Dean and Cas that he knew about anyway. And then Gabriel tells Sam Cas’ side- every dirty gritty detail, down to what Dean said at the club. Sam isn’t a baby, he deserves to know what’s happening.  
“… He really said that? Told Cas to go ruin someone else’s life?”  
Gabriel snorts softly.  
“Why don’t you ask him kiddo, s’not my area of expertise… all I know is when my brother called me tonight to tell me he’s moved home, and why,- Sammy, I’ve never heard Castiel sound like that.”  
“…like what?”  
“Broken.”  
*  
Sam sighs, rubbing his eyes more out of annoyance, out of worry, than sleepiness. It’s typical. This behavior, Dean not willing to give in even an inch, simply not able to overcome his stupid pride. Sam knows his brother is hurting, knows that Cas leaving him had almost killed him. After finally comitting to someone, being able to love and accept love in return had been huge for Dean. And having it all destroyed, thrown away had… well… it had broken him, too.  
“Gabe.. Cas, he…… I get why he did what he did, but… he’s gotta know that how he did it was wrong, right?”  
He shakes his head softly, clearing his throat before going on.  
“He said that it was a mistake, practically told him that he was making fun of him the whole time. Gabe, Dean thinks that Cas never really loved him.”  
*  
Gabriel’s voice is quiet when he speaks.  
“I asked him why he did that too, because I know that had to hurt Dean so much, and Castiel has never cared about anyone, never loved anyone the way I know he does Dean.”  
He clears his throat, voice sad and breathy when he speaks.  
“He… he said that he didn’t know of any other way to get Dean to let go. He said it would be better if Dean hated him, and was able to move on to someone who could make him as happy as he deserved, rather than lingering and hoping… Cas…didn’t want Dean to be the other woman.”  
He snorts slightly, the ridiculous stubborn nature of both of their brothers just making Gabriel so tired.  
“He said ‘Dean deserves so much better than that… than me’ “  
Gabriel groans slightly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  
“I have never seen Castiel look at anyone the way he looked at Dean. Like he’s Castiel’s whole world…like he’s the frickin’ sun and Castiel could want for nothing more than to just revolve around Dean. I-.. I don’t know what to do Sammy… I don’t know how to fix this… “  
He mumbles under his breath ‘I’m not very good at this for myself…’  
*  
Sam doesn’t say anything for a while, letting the words sink in. They hang up after talking about the misery of their brothers for two hours but Sam lies awake, unable to sleep, Gabriel’s words echoing inside of his head over and over again.  
When Dean returns to school the day after, he looks not half as bad as he had the day before, having done his best to hide the evidence of his long night. He borrowed Sam’s reading glasses for school, eyes small as he tries to concentrate on his biology lesson. Despite of what had happened, Dean sticks to his new plan of making an effort at school. He’s determined to pass his exams at first try, to make it out of this school, away from all the memories and that pale face, those blue eyes…  
That afternoon he stops by R. Singer’s auto shop. He spends hours there, trying not to think of the last time he’d been here, with Cas, on their date… Bobby is surprised by Dean’s sudden determination but he seems genuinely happy about it. When Dean leaves, the sky is already darkening and Bobby’s promise that if Dean finished his school he would offer him a job here makes his steps light, his head free for the first time in a long time…  
When he closes the door behind himself, the first thing he notices is the smell of pasta filling the whole apartment. He finds Sam in the kitchen, just straining off the water and putting the pot on the kitchen table.  
“That smells awesome”, Dean comments, shrugging off his jacket and sitting down, putting a generous amount of pasta on his and Sam’s plates.  
Sam sits down quietly, not touching his pasta, until Dean looks up at him, eyebrow cocked in concern.  
“What’s up?”  
“Dean.. I know you don’t wanna hear this but….. you need to talk to Cas.”  
Dean freezes. Stares at his brother for a moment, incredulous of the mere suggestion of doing this.  
“Are you serious?”  
“Dean-“  
“You of all people, Sam!”  
Dean lets his spoon drop to the plate with a loud clattering noise.  
“You saw me, you know what he did to me-“  
“-and he’s just as miserable as you are Dean!”  
He doesn’t give Dean a chance to talk back, telling him everything Gabe had told him the night before.  
“Dean, he made a mistake..he did it to protect you, to give you a chance, I… I know this sucks ass, he knows it too, Jesus, he’s beating himself up over it for all I know…… this is killing both of you, unless either one of you does something about it!”  
Dean has been awfully quiet throughout Sam’s outburst, staring at his plate unseeing. Then, without warning, without preamble, he gets up, turns around and leaves. When Sam tries to speak to him later, the door his locked and the loud classic rock blaring out of the enormous speakers in Dean’s room prevent Sam from getting through as well.  
Dean lies awake that night, staring at the ceiling, unable to get Sam’s words out of his head. He misses Castiel with his whole being, misses his voice, his smile, the way he would touch him when they were in public, small, innocent touches that promised so much more, the way he’d held him when they were alone. The way their lips fitted just right, perfectly, as if they were being made for each other.  
But he won’t be the one taking the first step. Not when this misery was all Castiel’s fault. And if he cries again that night, he tells him that it’s tears of anger, of hate.


	23. Chapter 23

For the next two days, Castiel calls Dean every hour or so, letting the phone ring until the voicemail came up, and then hanging up quickly. He didn’t want to just leave Dean a message- what he had to say was more important than just a voicemail. The things he wanted to say, to tell Dean, couldn’t be explained in a thirty second recording. Cas wanted to see Dean in person, but he didn’t want to just drop by unannounced. By the end of Sunday though, he had no other choice, as Dean had not only ignored his calls, but had completely turned off his phone as it no longer even rang.  
He drives over at 6pm, heart in his throat and hands shaking with nerves as he presses the button for Dean’s floor in the elevator. Each floor that dings by makes Cas’ chest tighten by another degree, coming closer and closer to the man he loved, the man he would fight for. As he walks down the hall his Father’s words come back to him from the conversation they had the night before.  
‘You have to hang on with both hands if you find a woman who can make you laugh… Who makes you want to be a better person.’  
Cas walks slower the closer he gets to the room, dreading what was to come.  
‘Dean makes me want to be a better person’, Cas thinks ‘He makes my heart feel like it has a purpose again… And I can’t let that go… I need him more than I should.’  
Castiel stops in front of Dean’s door and takes a deep shuddering breath, steadying himself for the talk that would come if only Dean would see him.  
*  
When there’s a knock on the door, Dean pushes himself off the couch, fetching his wallet from the kitchen and heading to the hallway. His eyes widen, as he realizes it’s not the anticipated pizza, his and Sam’s dinner, but the person he’d been longing to see for weeks and dreading to face at the same time. He’s unable to speak, his wallet’s slipping through his fingers and the sound of it falling on the ground is what shakes him out of his reverie.  
“What’re you doing here?”  
He’s surprised by how calm, how cold his voice sounds but doesn’t plan to do anything against it. It’s better this way. Better to not let Cas see just how much his unexpected visit affects him.  
He can hear Sam turning down the volume of the TV, obviously interested in what’s going on, but tactful enough not to stand in the doorframe, watching them.  
*  
Castiel stares at Dean for a moment, his entire body aching to reach out and hold him, run his fingers through the short spiky hair, brush his lips over Dean’s plush soft ones. He doesn’t though, just stands there staring for a long moment, eyes wide.  
“I… You weren’t answering your phone… “  
Cas licks his lips and then pulls an envelope from his pocket, the front addressed to Castiel Novak, already cut open.  
“I received this on Saturday morning by bike messenger. It’s from the recruiting team at Gallery 16. I had asked them to come see the abstract pieces that my students had done… And they offered three of them internships… You’re one of them.”  
His hand shakes just slightly as he holds the envelope out, praying Dean will take it. The cold tone in the boy’s voice had made his guts twist into knots, so he had led with the secondary reason for his being here, rather than the first.  
How do you tell someone that you fucked up worse than you’ve ever fucked up and you want them back in your life, when they obviously don’t want anything to do with you?  
How do you mend a broken heart, when you’re the one that broke it?  
*  
At first Dean doesn’t really react. Just keeps staring at the man who he’s still, and despite everything that had happened, hopelessly in love with. He swallows down the lump in his throat, then reaches out to take the envelope. He doesn’t pull the letter out, doesn’t spare it another look, doesn’t thank Castiel for coming by. He nods, curtly, impersonally.  
“You could’ve dropped it in the mailbox”, he says and he hates how rude, how loveless he sounds when all he feels at looking at the other man is love and regret and pain and longing.  
He can hear Sam huffing in the living-room but doesn’t pay him any attention.  
“Anything else?”, he asks, eyes still on Castiel’s slumped form.  
He looks horrible, now that Dean takes a moment to look him over. Cheeks hollow, face even more pale than usual, his dark hair messy but not in the just-out-of-bed, sexy way. For a moment he almost can’t hold back lunging forward, wrapping his arms around him and apologizing, even though technically there’s nothing he, Dean, did wrong. He just can’t stand what they’ve become, how distant and cold and unfamiliar.  
*  
Castiel’s face crumples slightly at Dean’s harsh words, his frozen tight voice.  
“… I… Meg was cheating on me… past 8 months… with her boss.”  
He shifts his weight from one foot to another, his voice cracking.  
“I’m not marrying her… don’t even know if the baby is mine.”  
Castiel’s face is pinched with pain, his arms wrapped around his torso, hugging himself. In this moment he’s talking to his best friend, the boy who always laughed at his quirky sense of humor, kissed him until he was breathless, let Cas count the freckles on his face as he drew him. Dean was the first and only person to bring true passion and love into Castiel’s life; he threw that away because of his parents’ morals and the possibility of being a Father. Now he knew that even if Meg’s child ended up being his, he would never marry her. He would be in the child’s life, but he would never give up his own happiness for someone else’s rigid principles. If he ever got to be happy again, Cas would hold on with both hands, and never ever let go. Castiel looks up from where he’s been staring at a spot on the floor near Dean’s feet. His face is broken, expression one of a devastated man, someone who had nothing left to lose.  
“I’m so sorry Dean… I… it was all for nothing…. I did it for nothing.”  
His voice cracks through his words, shoulders shaking slightly as he stares at Dean, mentally begging him to understand.  
*  
It’s not like Dean didn’t know. Sam had told him what Gabe had said, had told him how lost and alone Cas was, just like Dean himself. And whenever their eyes had met during class or on the school corridor, Dean had seen it. The unresolved pain and guilt underneath countless layers of clear, bright blue, darkened and dull by misery. So, although he hadn’t expected him to come forward like this, Dean isn’t exactly surprised of Castiel apologizing. And this leaves him nothing but anger, to react on Castiel’s revelation.  
“What do you expect me to say, Castiel?”  
His voice is quiet and calm, too calm, and they both know that this would end bad.  
“You think you can show up looking like shit and tell me you’re an idiot and everything’s fine and dandy?”  
He laughs bitterly, the smile not reaching his eyes, as he shakes his head and averts his eyes. He still hasn’t retreated a single step, leaving Cas standing outside in the cold hallway all dressed up with nowhere to go. His eyes fall on the ring, the one Castiel had given him, the piece of metal he still hadn’t had the heart to throw away, had kept it, resting on the dresser next to the apartment door. He takes it, makes sure Castiel sees it and lets it drop to their feet with a clinking noise. The ring rolls a few feet, coming to a halt just in front of the closed elevator doors.  
“I loved you, you know….”  
And just like that his patience is gone, dissipated and he’s stepping outside in the corridor, shoving Castiel backwards until his back hits the wall next to the elevator.  
“I would have done anything for you, anything! I gave you my heart, Cas - I gave you everything and you just threw it away!!”  
He doesn’t care that he’s yelling, that behind the closed door of his neighbors a baby starts crying, that Sam has followed them into the corridor, a terrified look on his face. He lets go of the lapels of Castiel’s coat, stepping backwards until he feels Sam’s hand soft on his back, his warm breath in his neck as he mumbles, pleads ‘Dean…’.  
“Just go”, Dean says, voice quiet again but shaking with anger, with hurt.  
He’s not looking at Cas cause he knows, the moment he sees the heartbreak in those eyes he loves so much, he wouldn’t be able to go on, to let go. He ignores Sam’s begging, turns his back on Cas and goes back inside.  
“I don’t wanna see you ever again.”  
*  
When Dean shoves him, yells at him, grabs his lapels, Cas can do nothing but shut his eyes and squeeze back the tears that want to come, his lower lip quivering with the effort.  
But then Dean backs away, and Castiel misses his touch even if there was only anger and hurt behind it. He knows it’s sick and wrong, but he still misses Dean’s warmth and strength with every part of himself as Dean pulls away physically- and then in every other way. Cas can almost feel the distance between them grow more and more cavernous with each passing second, and reaches out for Dean just as the boy turns his back on him.  
‘I don’t wanna see you ever again.’  
Cas freezes, his heart stopping in his chest as time stands still in that moment- the moment that he realized with absolute certainty that he had lost Dean, and there was no coming back from this. His plan had worked, a part of him bitterly acknowledges.  
Dean hates him.  
And Castiel did that.  
He pulls the hand back to his body, presses the fist over his heart where everything hurts and aches, and he breathes in small shallow gasps.  
Cas swallows hard, tears falling in silent scalding trails over his pale cheeks as he watches Dean walk into the doorway, shoving Sam further into the apartment. The door slams shut behind him, and Cas chokes on the sob that breaks out of his throat, the only sound that he can make for quite a while.  
He sinks to the floor slowly, knees giving way under the pull of gravity and the pressure of a love lost. Fingers grip at the floor, blindly searching for the ring that was just out of reach until after some trembling fumbling they close around the cold metal.  
Cas brings the ring to his chest and closes both hands around it, marveling at how the metal warmed under his touch, a traitorous part of his mind reminding him that Dean had once done the very same thing- and that he would never witness that again.  
‘I don’t wanna see you ever again’, the words echo once more, etching themselves with the dull knife of heartbreak into Castiel’s brain.  
‘I don’t wanna see you ever again’, Dean had said.  
“…Okay Dean…”, Cas whispers, and gets to his feet, leaving the apartment for the last time.  
*  
The moment the door to his room is closed, Dean sinks down against it, a throaty, pathetic sob coming over his lips as tears start running down his cheeks. He buries his face in his hands and screams, muddled words, accusations, insults, cries for help. Sam manages to push the door as far open as he needs to slip inside, crouching next to the shaking body of his brother and pulling him into his arms, holding him, until Dean is hoarse and tired and numb. He sleeps in his bed again that night and Dean would feel horrible about it later, like he was a burden to his little brother who had problems of his own, a life full of difficulties and disappointments and pain, just like Dean. But in this moment, Dean shifts in his brother’s embrace, moving closer to the source of warmth, as if Sam’s heat could somehow melt the cage of ice around his heart.  
A week goes by and Castiel doesn’t show up. There’s gossip about him being seriously ill, about him skipping work and other abstruse conspiracy theories but Dean doesn’t pay attention to it. To be honest, he’s too busy. He gives his best at school, having changed his attitude about being present and listening and participating in class 180 °. After school he picks up Sam, takes him home and heads to Gallery 16. The curator, Ellen Harvelle, Jo’s mum, is a nice lady with a quirky sense of humor and some serious kick-it-in-the-ass-attitude. Dean decides immediately that she’s cool and even though she’s pretty strict and dominant all the time, Dean thinks she kinda likes him too. He learns a lot about what’s going on in the background of a successful gallery and although he figures it’s not necessarily the most suitable job for him, he likes working for Ellen. Almost two weeks later, Dean hasn’t thought about Castiel for a long time, too caught up by school and his new job. Ellen had offered to showcase some of his paintings and so when Dean got home in the evening, he would spend hours to sketch, draw and paint, until he had three or four pieces he was kind of proud of and wouldn’t mind other people seeing them.  
When he gets to school that day, Missouri, the substitute teacher for Mr Novak - Dean had started calling him that in his mind, which didn’t make the pain go away but made it slightly less tormenting - isn’t there yet, so Dean sits down at his usual spot in the second row by the window, setting down his utensils and pulling out his notebook, now filled with countless sketches of whatever he’d seen or felt like drawing.  
*  
Two weeks pass by, full of silence. Castiel talks to no one, save for Gabriel when he does call. He avoids going to class, opting instead to take unpaid sick days. He figured the loss of money was better than trying to face Dean in class, knowing that the boy he loved so much it hurt to even think about him hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.  
By the second Friday since he went to speak with Dean, and was thrown from Dean’s world by the cold anger that had exploded from the teen, Castiel was calmer. He had called the school and told them that he would come in on Friday, and explained the situation to them as best he could without revealing his reasons for his absence. They understood why Castiel chose the course of action he did, and wished him the best of luck.  
Cas arrives to class a half hour late, walking in and setting his bag down on the desk before smiling and greeting those students who rushed up to ask what was wrong and where he’d been. He shoos them back to their desks, and clears his throat. His face is calm, hands folded in front of him, his clothing casual but classy; he wore dark jeans and a white button up with a deep blue vest on top. His hair was slightly messy, but had obviously just been cut, as he it was a bit shorter than he usually kept it. Cas smiled slightly when people started calling out even from their desks, asking him where he had been and what their next assignment was.  
Castiel spoke up in a quiet voice, his words reaching the entire class with little effort, as ever quieted immediately. You could have heard a pin drop in the classroom, but all anyone could hear was Cas’ voice, tired and worn but the smallest dash of fake cheer layered on top. No one would know he was faking his smile or his happy voice, not unless they knew him well. Then they would see that the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and there was nothing but pain there, lingering in the blue depths.  
“It’s been a pleasure being your teacher these past few months… But I have to move on.”  
There’s a few gasps and Cas smiles a tight lipped smile, shaking his head and holding his hands out for quiet once more.  
“You’ll be fine. The replacement they got for me is an excellent teacher.”  
It’s Jo who speaks up, strong voice reaching out from her place right next to Dean’s seat. Cas tries his hardest not look at Dean even though his muscles actually vibrate with the energy it takes to hold himself back from ‘just a glance’.  
“Mr. Novak…. Where are you going? Is there another job waiting for you? Is that why you’re leaving?”  
Cas looks down at the ground beneath his slightly scuffed boots and licks his lips, swallows around the sudden dryness in his throat.  
“… Actually no. There isn’t another job waiting for me. But…My brother lives in Los Angeles, and has offered to put me up for a bit, just until I find something. There is a vast arts community in LA.”  
Jo frowns, obviously upset about him leaving and not liking the answer she was being given.  
“Well,” she huffs,”why are you leaving then?!”  
Cas looks back up to talk to directly to Jo but somehow manages to catch Dean’s eyes instead. His gaze locks on and try as he might, Cas can’t look away. His voice is scratchy, hoarse when he speaks, the depth of the pain that he was hiding seeping out in his words.  
“… Because I fell deeply in love with one of my students, and it would be better for me to leave… than to stay and ruin his life anymore than I already have.”  
Castiel’s eyes are wet, but he doesn’t wipe away the tears as he then returns to his desk and grabs his bag, shouldering it and walking to the door, pausing once his hand was on the handle.  
“Again, it was a pleasure getting to know you… All of you. Take care and keep creating.”  
And with that the bell rings, and Castiel is out the door, needing to be away from Dean and the painful memories of that classroom and everything they had built together. He needed to put distance between them, the thought that ‘this is how it has to be’ raging in his head.  
He walks out to his car in the parking lot, wanting some privacy to shut out the world, needing to breathe fresh air as he felt like the entire world was closing in on him. The tears that had threatened to fall in the classroom do now as he walks with his head down, shoulders hunched, protected against Dean’s words that still ran through his head like a mugger, ready to pop out at any moment and rob him of his will to live.  
*  
From the moment Mr Novak enters the room, Dean’s body tingles. There’s a tension he’d thought had gone, disappeared, a feeling of electricity that rushed through his whole body at the mere sight of the tall, dark-haired man. Castiel’s words are quiet, well thought-through and pierce Dean’s heart like the blades of a hundred knives. He barely registers Jo talking, the other students gasping and whispering with each other, his mind, his soul, his whole being concentrated on Cas. His mouth opens and closes without a word coming over his lips, as Cas’ eyes find him, look at him for a few breathless moments.  
Love.  
This man, that had showed him so much, had given him everything Dean didn’t even know he’d wanted, he’d craved - that man is standing there, speaking about love, about giving up and letting go, not caring about who else hears. Wanting them to know, wanting them to understand. Dean can feel his chest constrict with suppressed pain.  
Only when Cas turns around, closing the door behind himself, Dean dares to take a breath, staring at the wooden door for a full minute. He leaves his bag and belongings behind, when he jumps out of his seat, dashing through the classroom, the empty hallways, not listening to Jo calling out to him or the interested murmur of his classmates, as they follow him outside. Dean runs, faster than he can remember he ever did, pushing open the doors of the building and taking three steps at once. He can see Cas now, figure slumped and small, walking towards his car and Dean reaches out, hand grasping his shoulder, spinning him around.  
“So that’s it?!”  
He wants to yell, wants to scream, wants to punch him, wants to throw him against his car and shake him until he understands. Instead his voice is quiet, broken, hopeful.  
“That’s the end, Cas? You..you just go?”  
He knows how his words sound, how illogical it is of him to expect Cas to stay, to try making this work again, as Dean himself had been the one who told him to go, to leave, to never show up on his doorstep again.  
“Dammit, Cas..”  
His hand finds the lapels of Castiel’s shirt, smoothing out some creases. When he looks back up in his face, there’s tears in his own eyes, his lips quivering with fear, with regret.  
“It’s not supposed to end like this, you son of a bitch!”  
And then he’s leaning in, hands reaching out to cup Castiel’s face, pull him in, their lips brushing against each other in a desperate, a longing kiss. If this is it, Dean figures, he might as well take that very last chance……  
*  
Cas stumbles back against his car, the metal digging into his back as Dean pushes him against it hard, his kiss becoming brutal with need. Cas fumbles with it, surprise making his eyebrows shoot up and a strangled gasp come up to sound as a ‘Mmmm?!’ against Dean’s lips.  
But Dean doesn’t let go, just pushes again, hands gripping Castiel’s face and not letting go until Cas gives in, and kisses back. The kiss is deep, heated, their bodies melting against one another as Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and pulls him even closer, hands pressed open against his back.  
They finally pull away minutes later, gasping, lips tingling and the hard lines of their cocks pressing against one another through their clothing. Cas stares at Dean for a moment, blue eyes still wide with shock, his mouth open, gaping.  
“…..Dean…?”  
“…You can’t just…run away like that…”  
Cas frowns slowly, his eyebrows drawing up and together in the center of his forehead.  
“You….you said you never wanted to see me again, Dean….so….I’m making that happen.”  
He swallows and looks down frown deepening.  
“It’s the least I can do.”  
Dean grabs Cas’ face again, pulling until Cas is forced to look into his green eyes, searching Castiel’s own.  
“You stupid son of a bitch”, Dean whispers, shaking his head.  
“…w…what?”  
“..I….GOD you’re so fucking frustrating!”  
“I’m-? I don’t understand Dean, I said I was sorry…and you told me you-”  
“I know what I said!…G….jesus Cas, I still love you…”  
“You-”  
“Just…just shut up Cas.”  
Dean leans in again, and this time Cas doesn’t hesitate in kissing him back, mouth opening as he pulls Dean in again, arms wrapping around his waist tight. The tears that Cas had thought he was getting done crying came again, prickling up and falling down his cheeks to make their kisses salty and even more bittersweet.  
Cas lets out a soft sob and Dean shushes him, until a bubble of laughter comes from deep within Cas- it’s stopped only by the abrupt clapping and cheering that comes from the other side of the parking lot.  
The lovers break apart, wide eyed and startled, their lips pink and bruised from the ferocity of their reunion. They had an audience- Castiel’s entire class had joined in, along with other students who had decided the show of the Art Teacher making out with the infamous Dean Winchester was much more entertaining than their next class. Cas flushes bright red and hides his face against Dean’s shoulder, groaning slightly. Dean can’t help but let out a slowly building grin, looking down at Cas, then other at the group of his fellow students standing and clapping for him.  
It was a strange feeling…having hidden it for months from almost the whole world; and now here they were, kissing in the school parking lot just when everything was falling apart, crumbling like brittle sandstone- to the cheering of Castiel’s entire class, and Dean’s schoolmates.  
It was a twist of fate that it took them falling away from one another like speeding comets for their love to be made public. It was just a brilliant stroke of luck that not only was it accepted, it was welcomed with smiling faces and whoops of joy (that would be Jo, screaming her head off as Cas blushes even deeper, and can’t help the embarrassed chuckle that escapes his smiling lips).  
Cas sighs and pulls back, pulling a frown as he stares at Dean.  
Dean blinks, then frowns back brushing the side of Cas’ face.  
“Cas?…What?”  
“…Gabriel’s going to be disappointed…he was looking forward to having me for a roommate…”  
Dean blinks at Cas for a second, then a slow smile splits his face and he wraps his arms around Cas’ shoulders, making a happy sound as Cas hugs him back just as tight around his waist, burying his face in Dean’s neck.  
“I love you Cas…”  
Cas’ voice is muffled, but it’s full of the love he’s felt, for so long now that he could swear Dean had always been a part of his life- inseparably a part of him.  
“I love you so much Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF MORNING TEACH PART I
> 
>  
> 
> This concludes Part I of Morning Teach, the mainly Destiel Part I.  
> Part II focuses on Sam and Gabriel's relationship but of course Dean and Cas are still gonna be around, so no worries :)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Begin Sabriel, Morning, Teach Part II!

Sam is happy for them. Jesus Christ, in his opinion after all those months of heartbreak and mistrust, of anxiety and uncertainty they’d deserve a fucking award or something. When they pick him up from school that day, Sam is speechless for a full minute, before he hugs his brother and then Cas tight. He holds Cas a little longer, mutters ‘Break his heart again and I will end you’, but quickly patting his back to make clear that he was joking. Well, partly at least. He’s happy that Cas is back, that he and Dean had settled things between them. Sure, Cas giving up his job would be a difficulty but nothing they wouldn’t be able to handle. Technically there’s no proof of him harrassing or touching Dean before that day and he’d already quit his job so there is no possibility of anyone filing a lawsuit.  
They eat at home that evening, Sam quickly taking off after having to endure a full supper with two lovebirds holding hands and looking at each other as if they were close to jump each other right then and there. He’s pretty sure that the moment the door’s closed they did just that but he doesn’t wait to find out. He stays at a friend’s place over night, only seeing Dean the next day when he picks him up from school. Seeing his brother smile like that, almost glowing with happiness and content, makes Sam all choked up and sentimental.  
Of course there’s still the envy. Now that his brother and his fiance are happy, Sam can’t help but being insanely jealous of what they had. He still is 14, almost 15 now and Gabriel is gone, moved to LA, out of reach and all Sam wants to do is scream and punch someone for the iniquity that is his life. Two days after Dean and Cas had come back together, Sam writes Gabriel. And he’s tired of hiding, of holding back how he feels, so he pours out his heart instead.  
Gabe,  
you probably heard it from Cas already - they’re back together! Geez, I didn’t think Dean would ever forgive him but I’m glad he did. Sure they have to work out some issues but right now I guess they’re pretty fucking happy.  
I know why you did what you did. I tell myself that I understand it every day. But it doesn’t help with how fucking much I miss you, Gabe. I know what we did was a mistake but I miss you and I wanna see you and I hate that you had to leave because of this, because of me.  
Gabe. I wanna see you.  
*  
*One Month Later*  
Gabriel had spent that two months that he’d been in LA just getting accustomed to his life. He had decided against renting an apartment downtown, even though that was closer to his work, and found a nice place in sunny South Pasadena, a small but well-kept 1 story house. It was too big for him, alone, so he ended up getting a roommate by the name of Luke. The guy was nice enough, cheerful even, and thankfully didn’t seem to mind that Gabriel had to keep odd hours as a club promoter; sometimes Gabriel wouldn’t stumble into the house until 6am, just when Luke was waking up to go on his rounds at the hospital.  
They worked well, staying out of one another’s hair, and there was no sexual tension thankfully because Luke was straight, and Gabriel was still head over heels in love with Sam.  
Sam. The boy who was too tall, too beautiful, too smart and perfect for his young age of 14 years. It made Gabriel feel so fucking pervy to touch himself at night to the memory of the heated kiss they’d shared, but nothing else seemed to work.   
He’d tried dating, hell, had even brought home a few one night stands. The sex was mediocre at best, and he was left feeling even emptier once they were gone in the morning. His King size bed mocked him, so he got rid of it as soon as he could, selling it and getting a much smaller double bed. The new bed was just big enough for him and the stray dog he’d adopted that reminded him of Sammy, with its big golden brown eyes and floppy shaggy hair and ears. He’d named it Rufus, and went on walks around his new neighborhood with the mutt every evening before work.   
At the age of 31, Gabriel was a domesticated version of his previous wild-style self. The clubs he promoted were no longer his life blood, they were simply the cash cow that kept him in comfortable clothes and able to help Castiel out while he figured out what to do with his life.  
Cas had decided to take up teaching private lessons, and taught only a handful of students a week, renting out a studio in the Presidio of San Francisco once a week for a couple hundred a month. It was decent work, but it didn’t pay much, and he refused to live off of Dean and Sam like some kind of leech. From what Cas had told him, he and Dean were still going strong, a month after they had gotten back together. It was verging on Spring now, the cold winter winds still around, but now accompanied by dreary rain and fog in San Francisco. For once, Gabriel was pleased with his decision to move to Southern California- it was sunny most of the time, and the rain didn’t come down sideways because of the wind.  
But he missed a lot of things about his home in the bay. His old friends, restaurants and clubs, Castiel and Dean…and Sam. He missed Sam more than anything. The ache in his chest was constant, like heart burn that just never went away no matter how he soothed it with late booze filled nights or redecorating his house over and over again. He missed Sam, and nothing was stopping it, or making it any less painful.  
Which was why he ignored the boy’s email for a solid month before answering it. Gabriel couldn’t see himself sending a message back, and not confessing just how much he loved Sam, and missed him, and dreamt of him every day.  
It was only in the dead of night, after having yet another un-successful date that Gabriel caves. 2 bottles of expensive wine in and he was sloshed enough to open his email, and pull up the old message from Sam, from a special folder titled, simply, ‘My Sammy’.  
Re-reading what Sam wrote made his heart hurt, and really with 2 bottles of wine under his belt, who could blame Gabriel for sending the message he sent- and would regret when he woke up in the morning, face down on the keyboard.  
Sammy——-  
Imissh you so muchj,. Io dontt likea it here you’re notr here sammm.  
I dreamtr abut you lass night. So pretty sammmyy, wana see you when youo comew. Dun tell dean!11 hell hate me foreber if I tell you rhis.   
Sammy…i miss youo,. I hate thsi. Wush yiou werew 18 noiw.  
He presses send without looking it over, eyes tearing up as he realizes how pathetic he really is. Gabriel’s in love with a fourteen year old, and he ran to the end of California to get away from that fact…but it followed him, caught a ride in his heart, and nestled there. No matter how hard he tried to shove it away, it just came right on back, boomeranging back around to smack him in the face whenever he even thought of Sam’s brilliant smile, or his goofy laugh, or the way his brow furrowed when he was considering something hard.  
*  
When Sam gets Gabriel’s mail one late afternoon, a month after he’d sent his own mail, he stares at it a full 30 seconds, considering if he should even open it. The words, although sloppy and hard to decypher, speak a pretty obvious message and Sam can’t help but blush at their meaning. It makes him all hot and tingly, imagining Gabe… thinking of him…  
Sam is still a virgin. He’d touched himself, sure and there’d been some making out with a few girls. But he had stopped seeing girls ever since he had met Gabriel. So when he reads the message, Dean and Cas out of the house, having dinner somewhere in the city, Sam doesn’t even hesitate unbuttoning his pants and sliding his hand inside, fingers wrapping around his cock loosely. He hisses at the cool, soft touch, using his other hand to push his pants down over his hips, making more space for him to touch himself. Usually it takes more build-up, magazines or porn - gay porn - for him to get in the mood. But that night all it takes Sam is the thought of Gabe doing the same thinking of him. His hands and legs are shaking, when he pulls the laptop close again, trembling fingers finding the keyboard as they type a short message.  
not 18 yet but doing some pretty NC-17 stuff RN.  
p.s.: why the hell would I tell Dean?  
He smiles to himself, enclosing a photo of his exhausted, grinning face to the mail before he hits ‘send’.  
*  
Gabriel wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache, and no recollection whatsoever as to what he did to get said headache. He downs a few advil and a huge glass of water, shooing Rufus away as he shuffles back into his bedroom from the bathroom. He had been doing something on his computer, if the grid marks on his face from sleeping on the keyboard was any indication.  
He shakes his mouse to wake the computer up, and blinks blearily at the screen. 12 new emails. Junk, Junk, Castiel, Junk, Club promotion, Sex toy junk (save that), Club promotion, Sam, Jun-….  
Sam?  
Gabriel’s eyes widen as he stares at the subject line, which has RE: miss you in it. Shit… what did he do?  
Five minutes later Gabriel is flushing bright red, both from what he wrote to Sam, which was technically soliciting a minor, way to go Gabriel; and what Sam had written back. Sam still looked young, but older by a small amount than the last time he had seen him. He still had the goofy floppy hair, and the wide nose and mouth, but there was color to his cheeks, and something in his eyes-….Oh…oh fuck. Gabriel blushes even dark and feels his cock wake up in his pj pants as he realizes that the flush on Sam’s face could be from only two things really- a quick sprint, or a delicious orgasm.  
‘doing some pretty NC-17 stuff RN’, Sam’s words, flash through his mind, and Gabriel bites his lower lip so hard to tastes pennies.  
He types out a quick reply and then turns off his monitor, taking Rufus for a run that both of them desperately need.  
Sam,  
I’m sorry I sent that email. I was pretty drunk. It’s still inappropriate for me to want this with you, no matter how badly I do.   
As for telling Dean…I don’t know, I just assumed it would come out eventually. It’s not like I’d want to hide a relationship from the world forever, right?  
Just…take care of yourself. Say hi to the love birds for me.  
*Gabriel  
p.s.  
How’s school? Anything new?  
*  
To be honest, Sam is pretty disappointed with Gabriel’s reply. He doesn’t know what he had expected. Cyber sex? Suggestive texts? Sam huffs out a laugh. Even in his mind that sounds ridiculous, pathetic. Gabriel was 31. And he was still 14. No matter how much they wanted each other, there would always be the age barrier. At least until Sam would be 18. Four years. Sam groans, shutting his laptop and turning to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling. Four fucking years of desperate longing and sexual frustration. He pulls a pillow over his head and screams, his voice muffled through the thick cotton and feathery stuffing. He doesn’t reply to Gabriel’s message, deletes it without thinking twice. It’s better like this. For both of them.  
*  
Two years later  
“Geez, Dean, stand still, will ya?”  
Sam groans, ruffling his fluffy, brown hair unnerved, as he tries to fix his brother’s tie. It’s June in California and he is already sweating enough in his black suit, even without a jittery groom-to-be. It takes him several more minutes and some serious persuasion to get Dean inside but from then on it’s magical. Okay, maybe not magical but something pretty close to it. Sam stands in the front row of the church, right behind his brother, only the center aisle separating him and Gabriel from each other, as they watch their brothers saying their vows and hand them their rings.  
They had kept their engagement rings - Dean had cleaned the one he had integrated in his painting as good as possible but there’s still some paint in the cracks of it - and when Dean slips the ring on Cas’ finger, there are actual tears on Sam’s face. Well, something like this doesn’t happen every day, does it? Seeing Dean so happy just made Sam sentimental.  
Them finding back together had been a long process. Dean loved Cas and Cas loved him but as much as Dean had wanted to, it hadn’t been easy for him to forget and forgive Castiel’s betrayal. There had been nasty situations, where Dean had felt the urge to make Castiel jealous, to go out and flirt with some nameless guy, just to show him how much it hurt. But Castiel had been there. He had stayed, had forgiven Dean, when he’d apologized over and over the next morning, crying, hands gripping his shirt like an anchor.  
And now they’re here. Together. Married. Sam honestly doesn’t remember much of his groomsman speech but when his brother hugs him tight and Castiel whispers a choked up ‘thank you so much, Sam’ he figures it couldn’t have been that bad. He watches them step out of the big celebration tent and walking down the beach, Dean having taken off his jacket and shoes and socks, his pants rolled up as he pulls Cas with him into the cool water. Sam smiles and turns his head away, giving them their privacy - only to look in the hazel eyes he’d tried to avoid all day. He licks his lips nervously, smile turning into an awkward half-smile that doesn’t reach is eyes.  
“Gabriel”, he says, raising his champagne glass filled with orange juice in Gabe’s direction.  
*  
Gabriel hadn’t seen Sam in two years. After the boy had stopped responding to his emails, he’d given up contacting him, assuming one of two things had happened: either Sam was over waiting, or he was trying his hardest to behave like Gabriel was.  
The last two years had been hard for Gabriel. He’d had a few relationships, but nothing ever really stuck. While he firmly believed in the ability to fall in love with more than one person, and enjoyed threesomes as much as the next adventurous wealthy 30-something, it just wasn’t enough. It wasn’t Sam.  
So when he gets the invitation to his brother’s wedding, only a month after Sam’s 16th birthday, he’s more than apprehensive. Would Sam even talk to him? Would he ignore him the entire time? The sick feeling during the entire plane ride up to San Francisco from LA couldn’t be solely from flight illness, Gabriel had thought. He was right, as the moment he saw Sam, his guts went for a loop-de-loop, riding a roller coaster from calm and collected straight into oh-fuck-what-do-I-do-now?  
Gabriel stood there beside his brother, offering Cas a genuine smile whenever he looked back over his shoulder with a nervous look. Gabe would nod and Cas would smile, and everything went so smoothly that you’d think that everyone had practiced it for months. In reality, Dean had written everything the night before, scribbled down in a notebook, and Castiel had written and re-written his over the course of a year…from the moment he realized that Dean was actually going to marry him, even after everything that had happened.  
Both of their vows were beautiful and heartful, Castiel’s poetic and metaphor filled, and Dean’s straight to the point and intensely emotional. Gabriel chokes up at one point, looking over at Sam when Castiel speaks of finding the one person that made anywhere he was at instantly feel like home. It hurts to see Sam now, after so long apart, at such an important event.  
There was so much wonderful emotion in the air, dancing from person to person as they spoke. At the ‘you may now kiss your husband’, Dean doesn’t hesitate, and grabs Cas’ face to pull him up and in for a breath taking kiss. Cas smiles into it, and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist tight.  
They leave their brothers alone, Dean too wrapped up in Cas, and Cas forgetting the last talk he’d had with his brother about how Gabriel still loved Sam. As they walk off into the sunset, Gabriel turns to look at Sam, who raises his glass to Gabe, the orange liquid sloshing just slightly.  
“Hi Sam….”  
Gabriel gnaws on the inside of his lip for a moment, then sighs and walks over, closer to Sam. He blinks and then looks up, up, up into Sam’s eyes. The boy was easily 6 inches taller than him by now, and it made a faint blush show up on Gabriel’s cheeks. He smiles slightly, a crooked grin, and tilts his head just a bit.  
“You’ve grown.”  
*  
It doesn’t take long until Sam realizes that despite his intent on ignoring Gabe, on keeping his distance to him and pay him no attention, he just can’t go through with it. Gabe is his usual cheerful, sarcastic and charming self and Sam can’t help but stand there and talk to him, listen to him, to laugh at his jokes.  
Before long the sky darkens, the merry music turns into slower, softer sounds and a long chain of lights beneath the tents joins the starlight. Sam clears his throat, realizing that they had talked almost four hours, and turns his head to the side, not speaking for a while, as he watches the slowdancing people around them absentmindedly.  
When he turns back to look at Gabe, the older man had come closer, standing only a few feet away from him and Sam feels a sudden rush of desire, of painful longing. They share a long, meaningful look, before Sam puts down his glass, reaching out a hand to take Gabriel’s and pulling him backwards. He grabs the keys to the Impala from Dean’s jacket, hurrying up the beach with Gabriel in tow and finally pushing the man against the warm frame of Dean’s baby. Gabriel hasn’t made a move this whole time, hasn’t said a word or tried to halt him, so Sam sees no reason to slow down or even stop now. He presses in closer, one hand around Gabriel’s neck, the other sliding over his chest, his stomach, fingers closing around his belt buckle. He looks back up to Gabriel, licking his lips, eyes dancing from Gabriel’s eyes down to his lips and back.  
“Gabriel, please…”, he says, his words coming out as a whisper, hot breath against Gabriel’s lips, full of desperation and hope.  
*  
Gabriel wants this. He wants to take Sam in and never let him go, wrap his arms around the boy’s larger, taller frame and rock together as one until they both see stars. He wants Sam inside him, deep, and has for years now.  
Maybe it’s the champagne, or the fact that their brothers just got married and are blissfully making out somewhere down the beach, or even that it’s pitch black except for a few street lights in the parking lot; suddenly, for whatever reason, Gabriel doesn’t care that Sam is only 16, and he’s almost 33. He doesn’t want to care, can’t bring himself to say no to the gorgeous boy in front of him any longer.  
Gabriel nods, silent, and looks up and into Sam’s eyes, his own open and searching, the golden color too bright in the darkness.  
“Sammy…”  
Gabriel wraps an arm around Sam’s waist to press his hand flat to his lower back, pulling him in even closer. He tilts his head up, craning his neck as he struggles to look up into Sam’s eyes; with Sam so close like this, it was incredibly hard to look into his eyes, and Gabriel’s neck hurt from bending back so hard but god he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Not when Sam’s firm, sports toned body was pressed against his like this, one of the boy’s legs slotting between his and pressing against the rapidly growing hardness in his tuxedo pants. Gabriel makes a soft whimpering sound and shuts his eyes, lips parted, and it’s in that moment that Sam leans down and kisses him, their lips locking together perfectly because they were made for this, made for one another.  
*  
The kiss feels like a first, tender and careful and testing, both of them wanting this so bad but being afraid of this desire at the same time. Sam sighs into the kiss, the soft sound swallowed by Gabriel, as he leans in even closer, lips parting to drink in every gasp, every whimper. Sam’s hands slide over Gabriel’s body, firm and well-toned underneath his searching fingertips. He presses his leg closer, parting Gabriel’s thighs to slide in between, knee nudging against the hard line of his cock. A moan escapes his throat at the feeling and he kisses Gabe even deeper, tongue dipping out and sliding inside his hot, wet mouth. The hand that is currently not busy fumbling with the button and zipper of Gabriel’s pants reaches behind him, searching for the doorhandle and pushing the keys into the keyhole. It takes them a few seconds to figure it out but then Gabriel is inside, skidding backwards in the rear seat until he hits the car door, Sam slipping in after him without giving him much time to arrange himself. It feels amazing, leaning down over the man, their mouths fitting so perfectly, as they kiss again, eyes wide open, watching their every move. Sam braces himself on one arm next to Gabriel’s hips and reaches down with the other hand, softly brushing his fingers over the bulge in Gabriel’s silky shorts.  
*  
Gabriel feels a bit like a whore at the moan he lets out from the barest touch of Sam’s hand over his boxers, but Christ it feels amazing. Every nerve ending is finely attuned to Sam’s heat, the soft questing touch of his fingers over silk fabric, pressing and squeezing until Sam has a solid handful of Gabriel’s hardness. Gabe shuts his eyes as his back arches slightly, mouth opening in another whimper. He wants this so bad… wants Sam.  
“Sammy..,” he whispers again, and wraps a hand around the back of the boy’s neck, pulling him down for yet another hungry kiss. There’s no hesitation now, only heated need and passion, Gabriel’s lips and tongue and teeth working to worry over Sam’s, leave him marked and breathless.  
Gabriel’s body aches for more, his hands shifting to Sam’s shirt to rip the stupid bow tie off and unbutton it, revealing smooth tanned skin, planes of taut flesh just for him. He bites his lower lip and then looks up into Sam’s eyes, shocked at the lust glazed look he sees there.  
“Sam…”  
Sam’s hand shifts over his erection, gripping tight over the silk and starting to move, jacking Gabriel effortlessly. Gabe can’t stop the choked sob of pleasure that comes out of his throat, his thighs parting automatically, his body knowing exactly what it wants. His hands skate over Sam’s torso, feeling the hot skin dance under his palms as Sam shifts, moving in such a way that the bulge in his own pants was evident. Gabriel swallows hard, Sam’s size evident even through black tuxedo pants in the back of a cramped car that was pitch black. He lets one of his hands slide down the teen’s torso to cup Sam below, both gratified and scared by the immediate reaction that Sam gives, bucking against the pressure and letting out a sharp hiss of Gabriel’s name.  
*  
It’s almost embarrassing how pliant he is, the moment he feels Gabriel’s hand on his length, lids fluttering shut and lips parting to release a string of lewd sounding moans. He can’t hold himself up much longer so he leans down, forehead resting against the crook of Gabe’s shoulder, hot breath puffing out against his skin. The shirt he’s wearing is pulled down so far to the side that it reveals the soft skin of his shoulder and Sam breathes in, takes in his scent and he swears, it’s driving him insane. He remembers his hand eventually, what he’d been doing before bliss had taken over his body and made him turn into jelly immediately, and Sam tightens his grip a bit, continuing to stroke the other man slowly but firmly. He feels Gabriel trembling against his own body and smiles softly, then turns his head, tilting Gabriel’s chin down to kiss him again. A few more minutes pass, until Sam’s hand finds its way into Gabriel’s shorts, fingertips ghosting over hot skin, his thumb finding the sensitive tip, collecting the precome there. Another sigh comes over his lips at the sticky feeling of it and he deepens the kiss, licking deep inside the other man’s mouth, biting his lip and drinking in his pleasured moans.  
*  
Gabriel’s hips buck slightly when Sam closes his hand around his cock, strong fingers making pleasure race up his spine. His breathing is ragged now, caught in his throat from the constant whimpers and gasps that escape him. Gabriel’s hand rubs against Sam harder through the fabric of his pants, fingers dancing up to pull down the zipper, the sound loud in the quiet of the impala. The only others sounds are their own breathing, harsh and raspy, and the ocean several hundred yards away.  
Gabriel’s body is tensing, coiling around the heat in his low belly, and he’s moments from pushing his pants down and off so Sam can get a better grip on him, when the sound of tires rolling on pavement and headlights flashing through the car’s interior stops his cold in his tracks. Gabriel’s eyes flare wide, and he freezes, staring up at Sam in shock and fear.   
‘Oh god… oh god, what if that’s the cops..they check parked cars at night for things like this..indecent exposure. AND SHIT, Sam’s still underage… FUCK FUCK FUCK.’  
“Sam, get off…”  
Sam hesitates, frowning slightly at the terse tone Gabriel had taken on. Gabe hisses the words out again, shoving Sam to the side gently.  
“Get off Sam…”  
He sits up slightly, putting his pants back together as he does, and looks out the fogged up window of the Impala.   
It was a cop car. It was a fucking cop car. Gabriel hard on dies right then and there, all the lust and heat that he had felt moments ago withering away and blinking out like a star in the night sky that had died.  
“…SHIT” he whispers, and adjusts his pants, hoping that if the cop came over, they could at least play innocent. Gabriel is still, watching the car as it coasts slowly through the parking lot, stops at a stop sign, and then turns right to continue down Highway 1 along the coast- away from the parking lot and the illegal happenings that had been occurring in the Impala. Gabriel slumps back against the seat and covers his face with his hands, groaning slightly.   
“…Shit.”  
*  
Sam doesn’t register what’s going on until he manages to look out of the window, past Gabriel’s head. He too quickly adjusts his pants again, sliding back into his own seat, until Gabriel sighs with relief, head resting against the head rest of the seat. Sam hesitates a moment, before reaching out a hand, resting it on Gabriel’s thigh and causing him to look at him.  
” ‘s okay..they’re gone”, he says, quietly, carefully, but the look in Gabriel’s eyes is the complete opposite of what it had been before, full of lust and want and not a care for the world. Now all that there is is darkness, fear and regret. Something Sam hates to witness, can’t bear to see reflected in those eyes he loves so much.  
“Gabe, it’s okay….. please, just..”  
He doesn’t finish his sentence, hands finding Gabriel’s shirt and pulling him back in his direction, longing to kiss those lips again.  
*  
Gabriel sighs when Sam pulls him closer again, and goes willingly, but gently dodges the kiss that Sam goes to place on his lips, resting his forehead against Sam’s shoulder. He’s quiet for a moment, then he speaks, his voice soft and sad.  
“…we shouldn’t do this Sam….”  
He takes a deep breath and then lets it out, shaking, as he pulls back. Gabriel cups the side of Sam’s face and gives him a tight lipped smile, a smile that says ‘I’m so sorry’.  
“…You’re still not of age…that was close. If….if they had come over here, I would be in serious trouble. And you would have been dragged down to the station too…and that would put your brother’s care of you under scrutiny…I…I couldn’t bear it if they took you away from Dean.”  
A frown flashes across Gabriel’s face and stays there, deep creases in his forehead as he stares down where his hands are holding the boy’s, thumb brushing over the back of massive hands.  
“… I’m sorry, Sam.”  
*  
At Gabriel’s words Sam lowers his head, staring at his folded hands. He has to bite his lip hard in order not to cry or yell but when Gabe falls silent, he can’t hide the disappointment in his voice.  
“You’re serious…..”, he says and it’s not so much a question but a realization “You’re doing it again…”  
He looks over at Gabe, their eyes meeting and Sam’s lips begin trembling. He shakes his head softly, not even trying to hold back the tears anymore. He understands why Gabe is doing this, why he’s refusing to let this go further, to make this ‘worse’ than it already is. But he hates him with every fibre of his being for it, hates his reasonable arguments and the way he looks at him, like he was something pathetic, something worth pitying. Sam can’t take it anymore. He spins around, hand finding the doorhandle and pushing it open, his body slipping out of the car smoothly. He doesn’t look back, as he walks back to where the party is still in full swing, joining Bobby Singer, Dean’s boss and his girlfriend and Dean’s old boss, Ellen Harvelle and her daughter, intent on forgetting about what had just happened. Preferably forever.


	25. Chapter 25

Gabriel finds Cas and claims he has to leave, something for work came up. He hugs Dean and Castiel goodbye, and when Dean frowns and asks if Gabriel is going to say goodbye to Sam, Gabriel smiles just the tiniest bit.  
“Sam and I already said goodbye.”  
He boards the plane that night touching his fingers to his lips, feeling where they still faintly tingled from Sam’s teeth, and leans his head against the cold glass of the window as he struggles not to cry.   
‘you’re doing it again..’ Sam had said, pain laced in his words so evident from his strained voice and tight face, eyes wide and brow furrowed as he had stared Gabriel down.  
‘you’re doing it again’…and he had. He’d let his lust and desire for Sam take control. If he really loved Sam, truly loved him, he’d stay away.  
He’d already hurt him enough.  
Gabriel gets home around 2am, and falls asleep curled up in his bed with Rufus snuffling at him, and only then does he let himself cry, just a little bit. Just enough to take the edge off the pain he felt at the idea that he’d hurt Sam, yet again, in the name of protecting them both.  
*  
For the next weeks Sam is miserable. He doesn’t show it though, couldn’t bear to see the worry on Dean and Cas’ faces when he would tell them what he was moping about. So he keeps it to himself, playing the cheerful, goofy, happy Sam whenever his brother and his husband - which still sounds strange and sends rushes of flaring hot jealousy through his body at the same time - are around. When he’s alone though, he locks his room, shuts the blinds and suffers. Three months after Gabe had left him again without another word, without the promise to be in touch, without anything at all, Sam starts smoking. When Dean finds out he freaks. Sure, he’d smoked before so he isn’t in the place to judge, but he does it nevertheless.  
“You’re sixteen, Sam”, he’d shouted and Sam had pulled out another smoke provocatively and left the apartment.  
‘Thanks for constantly reminding me of my age’, he thinks, as he heads to the park, where he meets up with some friends.  
That night he has sex for the first time. Ruby Evans is thin and pretty, her hair falls softly on his shoulders, as she rocks on top of him. But it’s not what he’d wanted, not what he thought this would be like. Afterwards she leaves with a cocky smile and a ‘thanks, Sam’ and Sam feels like a whore. So he drinks and smokes and when one of his friends hands him a joint, Sam takes it without thinking twice. If it helps him forget, who is he to miss that opportunity?  
*  
Castiel is worried about Sam. His behavior had changed since he and Dean got married, and Cas had moved in with them. He sat up late at night sometimes, thinking about how to help Sam, and if maybe his moving in was a mistake.   
Unable to get it out of his head, he emails Gabriel about his thoughts, only to get an almost immediate response.  
Cassie,  
It’s not you, or your marriage to Dean. Sam is mad at me.  
I’m in love with Sam, and I think he likes me too, at the very least.  
But I told him we can’t be together because of his age.   
He might be acting out because of that. Maybe he’s just trying to grow up too fast, or use whatever he’s doing as an escape.  
I wish I could be there, but I think I would just make it worse.  
*Gabriel  
Cas sighs when he gets the email, and forwards it to Dean immediately, knowing that Dean wouldn’t see it unless he checked his email at school. It’s a Tuesday after all, so Cas has the house to himself for a few hours while the brothers are at school. He usually spent it cleaning the house, preparing dinner for when they got home, or working on an art project.  
He sighs and shuts his laptop, and goes back to the mural he and Dean were painting on the living room wall. An autumn scene of a tree lined road with two bicyclists. The reds and oranges and golds brightened up the whole room, and make Cas feel warm and cozy.  
Cas would have to talk to Dean when he got home about Sam… and about what they could do to help him with whatever this was.  
Down in LA, Gabriel clicks his phone off and turns back to the man sitting across the table from him, all sharp features and almost greasy blonde hair.  
“So, you’re telling me that you’re going to pay me to spend a year going around the world to open up clubs and help promote them?”  
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”  
“….When do I leave?”  
The man grins and holds out his hand, which Gabriel takes with a tight lipped smile.  
“Welcome to Azazel Enterprises, Mr. Novak.”  
*  
A few weeks ago Sam had began standing Dean up. He simply hadn’t been there when Dean had showed up to pick him up, hadn’t called him or let him know about his absence at all. After his brother had scolded him for scaring the crap out of him, Sam had told Dean he didn’t need him to pick him up anymore. Neither Dean nor Cas had any idea where he went after school, who he spent his time with and how he came back every night way after curfew, ignoring Dean grounding him and threatening him with cutting short his pocket money. Sam doesn’t give a crap about money. He’s good looking and has many friends, so there would always be someone who would treat him for pizza or lend him a smoke or a bottle of vodka or let him share their drugs.  
When Dean comes home that evening he hasn’t read Gabriel’s mail yet and when Cas tells him, he has to sit down, hiding his face in his hands, softly shaking his head.  
“Gabriel?”, he says, his voice quiet and bewildered “Again?”  
He sighs, leaning back in his armchair, Cas sitting down on the armrest and putting a hand on his.  
“Jesus, Cas……. what are we supposed to do now?”  
He looks back up at his husband, the look on his face just as clueless as Dean’s own.  
“We need to do something, right? I mean…….he’s sixteen! And he’s drinking and smoking and hanging out with all the wrong people….”  
*  
“I know…I know Dean. Would you have rather Gabriel had let it happen though?”  
He frowns slightly, almost a wince at the thought of his 33 year old brother getting involved with a 16 year old, even if that 16 year old was Sam.  
“Sam’s mature…he’s smart and eager to learn, and I know that Gabriel wasn’t thinking about his age when he fell in love with him…but…I think he did the right thing staying away, even if it hurt Sam.”  
He brushes his hand along Dean’s cheek gently, kisses him once, twice, slow kisses that show just what Dean means to him. Cas stares into Dean’s eyes then, his voice soft, barely a whisper.  
“I know I didn’t have the strength to stay away from you.”  
He slides off the arm rest into Dean’s lap and kisses him until the tension melts from Dean’s body, until the strong muscles, even larger now than two years ago when they first met, become pliant beneath Castiel’s questing fingers.  
Only then does he lean back and sigh, gently.  
“We need to talk to him…find out what he wants, why he’s doing this. If all he wants is Gabriel, then we’ll just have to tell him to be patient. If he’s so mad at Gabriel that he doesn’t care about him anymore, and this is just Sam’s way of acting out, then we have to ask him what he hopes to accomplish with it…”  
Cas cards his fingers through Dean’s hair slowly, humming soft behind closed lips.  
“….Sam is a smart kid Dean. We need to let him know that if he fucks this up, that his scholarships are gone. That his future is going down the drain with every pill he pops and grade he lets drop. We can’t control him…I…I think all we can really do is reach out to him.”  
Cas smiles and intertwines their fingers, kissing the tips of Dean’s one by one.  
“It’ll be okay Dean….we’ll figure this out.”  
*  
What Cas says makes sense and sometimes when he’s so goddamn rational and reasonable Dean just wants to punch him or shake him but right now he’s so fucking grateful to have him, have this person who he trusts with his own life, with the fate of his brother, with everything that was and is and would be. So he pulls him back down to kiss him again and again, hungrily, desperately, clinging to this man who is his safe haven, his anchor in stormy times like this.  
Sam doesn’t come home that night, shows up almost two days later, hair damp and dirty, eyes puffy and red. Dean is so freaked out seeing him like this that he forgets being pissed and just pulls him in the living-room, gently pushing him down on the couch and getting a towel to dry his hair, and wipe dirt from his cheek.  
“Dammit Sammy, what did you do?”  
For a moment their eyes meet and the smell of alcohol and sea water almost makes Dean nauseous. Then Sam shakes his head, slowly, incredulously and tears start running down his cheeks.  
“I…… I don’t know”, he says, voice confused and broken and so miserable that Dean has to pull him into his arms, hug him tightly and hide his face against his brother’s neck, to try to fight his own tears back.  
He has to be strong now. For Sam.  
“Shh..’s okay, Sammy…”, Dean says and when he feels Cas’ hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, he knows that it will be. Everything would be okay, as long as they were together.  
The next few days are hard. Dean calls Sam’s school, reports him to be sick and Cas takes care of Sam, while Dean is at work. Sam is still rebellious and stubborn and he refuses to talk to any of them about Gabriel and how his recent actions were simply driven by defiance and frustration. But he realizes that he’d gone too far, that what he was doing was only harming himself.  
It takes almost two weeks until Sam feels better, until Dean feels safe to send him back to school. They still have problems, after all it is not that easy to abandon drugs just like that. But Sam is insightful and determined.  
*  
The time they spend together brings Cas and Sam even closer than they were before, Cas acting in a mentor roll, and helping Sam overcome what the drugs had done to his system. Four months after the wedding, and a full month after that horrible night Sam had stumbled into the house, reeking of booze and smoke and wet with salt water, he was clean again, and getting back on track with school.  
He had abandoned the friends he had made during the time in his life when he needed to feel numb, to feel nothing at all because the hurt was too much. Sam focused on the friends he had now, friends that Cas and Dean approved of. Brady and Jess were his closest friends now, and they were both honor roll students, Brady eager to become a lawyer, and Jess a nurse. Cas would hold study sessions at the apartment for the three of them, cookies and milk around the table, pizza late into the nights as they struggled with their essays and projects for their honors classes. Sam had barely managed to stay in school, and after some cajoling and begging by Dean, the principal of the school had let Sam back into the honors classes.  
Cas heard from Gabriel about once a week, with a new update about what club he was opening up, where he was and how he was doing. The last line in his emails was always the same.  
p.s.  
Take care of Sammy for me.  
It broke Castiel’s heart to see how much Gabriel wanted to be here, to see Sam, but couldn’t. He knew what it was like to want, to need, someone so badly when you really shouldn’t. It wasn’t a fun feeling, there was no real thrill to it, not the way you would think with forbidden relationships. There was only the dull ache deep in your chest when you thought about that person, late at night, and missed them from halfway across the world.  
Gabriel slept fitfully most of the time, unable to get the haunted betrayed look on Sam’s face out of his head for the first two months after he left from the wedding. After that, it got a little easier. He dove into his work, absorbing himself in making sure that the clubs he opened always hit the newspapers right on time, had the best celebrities in attendance, and were well received by the internet gossip magazines. He was brilliant at his job, and with that came a trickle down of attention, fame, and money.   
By October, four months after the wedding, and his gasping rush of an experience with Sam in the backseat of the Impala, Gabriel found himself woven into the underworld of the club scene. He was fawned on by female and male celebrities alike, and had a few A-listers offer to take him home…or to come home with him.  
Gabriel always smiled, polite, and shook his head. He claimed work had him by the balls, and that Azazel would kill him if he made any bad press for the company. He would go home every night to Rufus, his constant furry companion, and only stable thing in his life at the moment. They’d walk together or watch TV, explore the new city that they’d moved to and then collapse into bed when Gabriel couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Gabriel’s bed was warm, but only because Rufus slept at the foot of it. The cool expanse of sheets right next to him was never touched by another person, as the few times Gabriel had tried since he began this round-the-world trip, he’d found that he couldn’t get Sam out of his head.  
So he slept alone, ate alone, showered alone, and touched himself to the thought of Sam turning 18, and the miracle of the boy still wanting him.  
Gabriel wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that Sam would wait for him, but late at night in the afterglow of an orgasm, sometimes he could let himself dream, and in the dream they were blissfully happy together.  
*  
Despite the old saying that time heals all wounds, even four months after last seeing Gabriel, Sam dreams about him almost every night. He’s better now, at least physically, but his heart is still broken. There’s still an immense feeling of jealousy, of unfairness, whenever he’s with Cas and Dean, whenever he’s forced to witness how happy, how in love they are. So he puts on his usual façade, the happy face and cheery mood his brother and his husband are expecting from him. When he’s around them, he’s the old Sam, melancholy and misery gone. He doesn’t spend too much time on his own, scared that if he’s alone, he would think too much, that eventually he would break beyond repair. He knows that Jess has a crush on him but he never acts on it, a voice somewhere in the back of his mind screaming at him, telling him that this is wrong, that it wouldn’t be fair towards her.  
They spend Christmas eve together, just a nice, homey dinner and Sam goes to bed early, once Cas takes Dean’s hand and Dean leans in to kiss him deeply. The lovers don’t notice how miserable Sam is, how lost. Sam sleeps with his pillow above his head that night, trying his hardest to block out the sounds from the nearby bedroom, silent tears dripping down on the mattress.  
*  
At midnight Sam’s time on Christmas eve, long after everyone has gone to bed, his phone vibrates and beeps with a text message on his nightstand.  
Halfway across the world in Japan, among the hustle and bustle of Christmas day, surrounded by chattering shoppers, falling snow and strings of gorgeous lights, Gabriel sits alone at a cafe. He sips his mocha and looks out the window at the busy world, wishing that he was home for Christmas day, but knowing that there was no way he could go, and be expected to leave again before this trip was over.  
He looks down at his phone again, at the simple message he’d sent Sam, and prays that the boy wouldn’t hate him for it.  
Gabriel: Merry Christmas Sammy, and Happy New Year if I don’t get to it later.  
*  
Sam doesn’t see the message until the next day, staring at his phone as he reads the 14 words over and over again. He deletes the message and shuts off his phone. When the shops are open again, he gets a new cellphone and number from his Christmas money. His old phone disappears in one of the drawers of his cupboard where he intends to never get it out of.  
He spends New Years Eve with Jess and Brady and at midnight he kisses her. They laugh it off, at least Sam does, and don’t talk about it again but Sam feels like he destroyed something. Of course he did. Nowadays this seems to be the only thing he is good at.  
School starts again and Sam starts dating, insignificant flings, tipsy kisses and groping in the backseat of his new car. But he can’t forget about Gabriel. As angry and disappointed and sad he is, he misses him. He has lost count of how many times he’d been close to pulling out his old cell and call him, tell him to come back from wherever he was right now, come back to him or at least to America. He wants to hear his voice, his laugh, wants to see him, touch him.  
He sighs and sinks back into the cushions on his bed.  
‘This is exactly why he left’, he thinks to himself, recalling the kisses and the touching still vividly.  
If only he’d been able to control himself, to keep his hands to himself. Maybe Gabe wouldn’t have left. Maybe he would still be here or in LA at least…  
*  
Gabriel is sad when Sam doesn’t respond, but he’s not surprised. After what Cas had told him, he was actually shocked Sam hadn’t just cussed him out through text, or at the very least told him to fuck off.  
He sends a care package for the trio from his trips in January, filled with souvenirs and presents from the half of the world he’d already seen. There was teas from England, India and Japan for Cas, as well as books on the history of each country he’s visited, and a top of the line watercolor kit from France. He’d gotten model cars from Japan and rice paper drawing pads with a traditional set for Japanese block printing for Dean, and books of parables for Sam from each country he’d visited. They were old, possibly first editions from the leather binding on some, and the illuminated illustrations in most of them. There was a note that said ‘handle with care’ written in Gabriel’s loopy hand writing attached to the bundle of books by a white string. The box arrives in late January, after having been shipped to the wrong address several times. It comes only a day after Dean’s birthday, which they had celebrated with lots of alcohol… Dean is finally able to drink it legally after all. They open the box in silence, neither Dean nor Cas sure what to say as they hand the bundle of books to Sam. Cas almost wishes that Gabriel hadn’t included them for Sam, from the look on the boy’s face.  
*  
Sam isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do or say, when he takes the books, staring down at them for a few breathless, quiet seconds. He can feel Dean and Cas’ eyes on him and he hates it, hates that they watch him like he’s about to break, that they still treat him like this weak child, that’s not strong enough to bear the weight of the world. He looks up, a tight lipped smile on his face, as he puts the books down on the coffee table and shrugs his shoulders.  
“At least he sent something useful”, he says and laughs but neither Cas nor Dean join him.  
They all know it’s fake, a deception, covering up the pain and disappointment deep inside the boy’s heart.  
In the middle of April, Dean and Cas get weird. They start having secret conversations, suddenly falling silent when Sam enters the room and it’s pretty obvious what they’re doing. Sam decides to talk to Cas first and pulls him aside, while Dean is preparing dinner in the kitchen.  
“Cas, I don’t want a party”, he says and he can see the shock and disappointment on Cas face, can see him trying to make something up for like 2 seconds, before he gives in and sighs, shoulders slumping.  
“I appreciate the effort, really….. but… I just don’t feel like it… please, you have to tell Dean…..”  
*  
“Sam, I know…I know things have been hard for you since Gabriel left.”  
He reaches out and gently places a hand on Sam’s wrist, guiding him to sit down on the couch in the living room.  
“And I know you don’t want to talk about it. I understand….but keeping it inside like this obviously isn’t working either Sam. Just…You know you can talk to me, right? That whatever you say will stay between the two of us?”  
He presses his lips together tight then runs a hand through his shaggy hair, making it even messier. Ever since he’d started teaching classes privately Cas had stopped shaving as much, leaving his chin stubbly most of the time, and haircuts were few and fair in between as well.   
“We’re just worried about you Sam. We don’t like seeing you so unhappy…and I’m so sorry that my brother is the cause of this. If… if I had known this was going to happen I would have never introduced you two.”  
He frowns, mouth set in a grimace. Cas feels partially to blame for the mess that had become Sam’s life as of late. Even if he was studying more, and had better friends and his grades were picking up…it was obvious that he wasn’t really happy. There was always an undercurrent that Sam thought he hid so well, but that Cas and Dean could see from time to time. They saw it in the way he had taken down and hidden everything that Gabriel had given him, even the calendar marking down the days until his 18th birthday. They saw it in how Sam had stopped eating Fruity Pebbles, because they were Gabriel’s favorite. There were dozens of other small markers, from words Sam avoided using to musicians that made him stiffen if they came on the radio with Sam in the room.  
And it was Gabriel that had done this, had hurt Sam like this, and taken away the innocence and happiness that had been the core of the boy’s life before he came in the picture. And for that Castiel is forever sorry.  
*  
Sam freezes, posture stiffening where he sits next to Cas and he quickly reaches out, one hand on his knee, the other on his shoulder. When Cas looks back up at him, he softly shakes his head, hand squeezing his thigh gently.  
“Don’t be..”, he says, voice still quiet, although Dean is singing flat in the kitchen “Cas, it’s not your fault….I-I’m glad I met him…”  
He stops, biting his lip, searching for the right words.  
“None of this is your fault……or his…I was an idiot, a stupid, stubborn child and..Cas, you and Dean…..you guys know that I’m sorry, right? For putting you through this…..I..I know what you’ve been through, I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass and I promise nothing like this will happen again. Ever.”  
He doesn’t give Cas much chance to reply, surging forward, wrapping his arms around Cas and pulling him into a tight embrace, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. They stay like this for a full sixty seconds and only part when Dean clears his throat behind them. He’s leaning in the doorframe, one eyebrow cocked at them, spatula in hand and a crooked smile on his lips.  
“Did I miss anything?”  
Sam lets go of Cas completely, looking back at him for a second, before getting up to pull his brother into a short hug as well. He doesn’t tell Dean what he told Cas but somehow he knows that he still understands.  
He’s not sure why but after that night things start getting better. He’d kept Gabriels presents, had cherished them but most of the time they caused nausea and melancholy. The calendar especially. Whenever he found it it was like somebody had ripped a small piece out of his heart or plunged a knife into it. From that day on he decided to stuff it into the back corner of his closet, piling up clothes and folders in front of it.


	26. Chapter 26

Gabriel had spent almost 10 months abroad when Azazel calls him and tells him that he’s going home to LA, that a new club was opening there and they needed him there as soon as possible. So he gathers his belongings, packs everything and ships it home, saying goodbye to the few friends he’d made in New Zealand, which had been his latest stop when Azazel had called. They made him promise to visit soon, and he genuinely smiled when he said that he would.  
Rufus hated flying, but there was little that they could do about it, and Gabriel was able to visit him often in the hold below in the plane that was made specifically for transporting pets, kept pressurized like the main cabin of the plane for safety and comfort of the animals. It was five hours into the flight, around half way, when he checked his email and saw one from Cas, asking if he would be home in time for Sam’s 17th birthday in three days.  
Gabriel hesitates, before sighing and replying.  
Cas,  
Hey brother! Actually, I’m on a plane right now, back to LA. I’ll be home in 6 hours, but I’m still going to be working. There’s a club opening up the day before Sam’s birthday, so I don’t think I would be able to make it up there.  
I don’t think it would be a good idea, anyway. He changed his number right?  
He didn’t give me the new one…and I knew better than to ask for it.  
I’ll see you seen Cassie, and I love you.  
But I don’t want to hurt Sammy anymore than I already have.  
Love,  
Gabriel  
Gabe shuts his phone off after that, and sleeps for the rest of the flight with Rufus down in the hold. He wakes up when they’re preparing to land because a stewardess is shaking him and telling him that he has to return to his seat, please.  
It feels weird to be back in Los Angeles, in the United States…after spending so much time abroad. He’d been gone almost a year…hadn’t seen Cas, or Dean…or Sammy, in so long. It made his heart clench to think that Sam had probably grown even more, was probably taller and broader shouldered, that maybe he’d filled out like his brother. He sighs as he exits the plane and goes to wait in line at customs with everyone else, having a good hour of waiting with his thoughts as he shuffles through the line at a snail’s pace.  
By the time he gets himself and Rufus home, Gabriel is exhausted, so he goes to sleep without seeing Castiel’s reply.  
Gabriel,  
I understand, but I think that Sam is going to be okay. He’s stronger than anyone gives him credit for, and I think things are getting better. Even if you don’t want to see him, or can’t see him as the case may be, I would like to see you.  
Please set some time aside for me soon, I miss you.  
*Castiel  
Castiel doesn’t shut down his computer that night, leaving it open as Dean drags him off into the bedroom with a husky ‘Come try out that new toy I bought Cas’, in his ear.  
If he had known that Sam would be coming home that night, instead of staying at Brady’s as he’d said he was going to, maybe Cas would have been more careful. Maybe then Sam wouldn’t have let curiosity get the better of him, and read the message that was up on the screen.  
Maybe then he wouldn’t have decided right then to break out his saved money from Christmas, and purchase the first bus ticket to Los Angeles that he could.  
*  
Sam is calm and quiet on the bus ride. He’s not usually the spontaneous type, the kind of person to just up and run at the first opportunity. But here he is, on a bus to LA, to see the person he’s been in love with for almost 3 years now. He has shut his phone off, when he left the apartment, a scribbled message on the fridge door the only thing he left behind.  
‘Going to stay at Jess’ place for the weekend. See you on Monday. -Sam’  
It’s the first time Sam has been to Los Angeles and when he gets off the bus at 5 in the morning, he’s a bit lost. He’s noted down Gabriel’s address from Cas’ e-mail address book and sits down on a bench in front of the bus station to count his money. He asks around and finds out that Gabe’s place isn’t that far away, so he decides not to call a cab but to walk. The sun is already shining brightly, when he reaches the apartment complex and for the first time he feels anxious and nervous. What the hell was he thinking? What was he supposed to do, to say when Gabriel opened the door? What was he expecting? He spends almost half an hour in the bulding’s lobby, walking up and down, staring at his feet, trying to calm down enough to actually think. By the time the fourth habitant had asked him if he needed help, Sam finally plucks up the courage to take the elevator up. He takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut and knocks. Once. Twice.  
At first nothing really happens but then there’s barking, a distinct patter of small feet on the floor. Sam takes a step back, blinking in confusion. A dog? Is this really the right place? He looks down at the name plate next to the doorbell which clearly states G. Novak.  
Then the door opens and Sam holds his breath, when he finally sees Gabriel for the first time in almost a year. He can’t really think of what to say so the first thing stumbling out of his mouth is a breathless “Hi”.  
*  
The doorbell rings at 8am, and Gabriel is less than pleased. Who the hell would be showing up at his apartment at 8am? Maybe it’s Luke, his old roommate from before he moved into the smaller apartment he had arranged for after he got back from his trip. Luke had said he wanted to go for drinks sometime soon, but Gabriel knew he worked night day shifts right now. He hesitates for a moment, then opens the door, expecting that whoever was on the other side would just have to forgive him for his rumpled appearance and pj pants, it was only 8am after all.  
Gabriel isn’t sure who he was expecting to be at his front door. It certainly wasn’t a taller, broader, even more handsome version of the boy…no, god, he was a man now…that he was in love with. The breath catches in his throat, and his eyes flare wide, the gold irises showing even more as the pupils dilate. He can’t even move for a moment, only startled out of his stillness by Rufus practically bowling him over to get out the door and jump up on Gabriel’s visitor.  
Sam’s eyes go wide but he can’t help the shocked laugh as the huge mutt jumps up on him and slobbers a hello kiss all over Sam’s chin when the boy bends down.  
“Hi… and you are?”  
“…Rufus…..t..that’s Rufus.”  
Sam kneels to pet the dog, who has calmed down enough and simply leans heavily against Sam as the teen pets him. Sam looks up as his hands ruffle the dog’s ears, a hesitant, nervous smile on his face.  
“Hi”, he says again.  
Gabriel’s mouth finally twitches, a soft smile gracing his face, the shocked expression melting away into one of pure fondness.  
“Hi, Sammy…”  
Sam’s expression shifts as well, and he stands back up, taking a step to crowd into Gabriel’s personal space, right up against the door frame with his hands on the door jamb.  
“….Can I come in?”  
“….I…y..yes, please…come in…”, Gabriel stutters, a flush coming to his cheeks as he stares up up up into Sam’s eyes, the boy’s smirk that follows only making him flush more.  
Gabriel leads the way back into the apartment, Rufus following and Sam shutting the door as Gabriel wanders towards the living room, frowning slightly in bewilderment.  
Once they’re both in the living room, Rufus wandering over to his bed to flump down with a lack of grace that only dogs can possess, Gabriel turns around to stare at Sam again.  
Sam had grown, yet again. He was now almost a foot taller than Gabriel, at the very least 8 inches, and his chest had broadened and filled out, not to mention his hands which were more like catcher’s mitts. Gabriel swallows around the sudden dryness in his mouth, and opens it to say something smooth.  
Unfortunately, the only thing that comes out is  
“What are you doing here?”  
*  
Sam does his very best to hide his own nervousness, as he follows Gabriel inside, licking his lips once the man had turned his back on him and lead the way to the living-room. He doesn’t reply immediately, wandering around the large room, just like he had in Gabriel’s old apartment, pretended interest at the books and CDs on his shelves. He pulls out one of the CDs, opens it, closes it again and puts it back on the shelf, before turning around, leaning against the rack and licking his lips.  
“I heard you’re back. I wanted to see you.”  
Simple as that. It’s the truth but still Sam is glad that Gabe can’t hear how loud his heart is pounding in his chest, how his blood is rushing through his veins and he can only pray that he’ll not blush. He’s not used to seducing other people, has never felt the urge or need to try. Never. Until he’d met Gabriel.  
He pushes himself off the bookshelf, walking a few steps towards Gabe, then stopping, one hand on the back of his leather couch.  
“You have a nice place”, he then says.  
He can see that he’s making Gabriel nervous, that the other man can’t quite figure him out. He likes it. It gives him a feeling of power, of superiority. He somehow knows that Gabriel is still thinking about him, that he still wants him. And even though they’d been through this twice before, Sam can’t stop himself from wanting him, now that he’s here, alone with him.  
He clears his throat, then walks past Gabriel, stopping at the doorframe, feeling Gabriel’s eyes on him, as he turns around to look at him.  
“You wanna grab a bite? I’m starving…”  
*  
Gabriel arches a brow at Sam then, seeing in the way Sam clears his throat and holds himself just a little too stiffly that he’s nervous too. Gabriel’s lips twitch slightly towards an amused smile, and he shakes his head while walking down the hall towards his bedroom.  
“Does Dean even know you’re here Sam?”  
He calls over his shoulder as he walks into his bedroom to change.   
Gabriel would go along with this, would see what Sam truly wanted, what his underlying motives were. At the very least he got to see him again, and for that alone Gabriel was thankful. The faint glimmering hope that Sam could still want him, after all that they’d been through, done to one another?  
That burned like an ember in his belly, just waiting to be stoked by the smallest thing that Sam said or did.  
Gabriel wouldn’t make the first move, couldn’t. He couldn’t allow himself something so risky, both from a legal stand point and from an emotional one. He knew that he loved Sam, loved him so much it hurt to stand in the same room, but he wouldn’t push it without knowing exactly what the boy wanted.  
So he feigns nonchalance just like Sam does now, and walks into his closet and grabs a pair of jeans, stripping out of his pj pants and pulling the cool fabric up over bare legs.  
*  
Sam doesn’t follow Gabriel, staying where he is in the doorframe of the living room, shifting from one foot to the other as he waits for Gabe to come back.  
“You really need to ask?”, he says eventually, when the man steps into the corridor, clad in a tight jeans and a simple white button up “Nobody knows I’m here, Gabriel.”  
He smiles, then walks over to the door, turning his head to see if Gabe was following him and stepping outside then. Gabriel suggests a diner three blocks away and once they’re on the street, Sam feels better, more loose and relaxed than back at the apartment. They start talking and it feels like they’d never been seperated. Sam wants to hear everything about Gabriel’s travels, about the countries he’d seen, the cultures he’d been a part of for a few weeks or months and the people, somehow always evading the question if there had been someone to spend his lonely nights with. They eat scrambled eggs and ham and toast and while Gabriel is sipping at his coffee - two sugars and milk - Sam talks about his life.  
It’s not fair and he knows it. But he wants to see Gabriel’s reaction, enjoys to witness the frustration and jealousy on his face, as he talks about his friend Jesse - leaving out the fact that ‘he’ is indeed a ‘she’ - and how he’s head over heels in love with Sam. He talks about Jesse running after him for months, about how Sam had finally given in, how they’d come together and how Jesse had asked him to fuck him. It’s not like Sam to weave lies, to deceive somebody he cares so much about like this. But with every word he can see Gabriel getting more uncomfortable, more embarrassed, more envious and it’s like a drug, he can’t stop…  
*  
For the first thirty minutes they spend together, Gabriel is sure he’s walking on air. Everything is amazing, and perfect, and he can’t stop smiling even though his cheeks hurt because of it. But then everything shifts perceptibly, the moment Sam starts talking about Jesse…  
Jesse, Sam’s boyfriend, or at the very least, the boy that Sam deems worthy enough to brag about to Gabriel. There are details that Sam gives him, things he says that make Gabriel cringe at the mental images the teen’s words supply.  
Sam grunting as he fucks into another boy, wrapping those huge hands around the other boy’s cock and jacking fast and furious so they could come together.  
Sam getting a blow job in the locker room after school.  
Sam bringing that boy back to his house when Dean wasn’t home, and fucking him in the hallway up against the wall, breathless and shuddering.  
Of course, every thing that goes through Gabriel’s mind is his own imagination, Sam doesn’t go into excruciating detail- but it’s enough for Gabriel’s heart to lurch and clench hard in his chest, a dull throbbing ache that just proves to him once more how much he loves Sam.  
Finally, he can’t take anymore and sighs, frowning and looking down at his empty plate.  
“Why are you throwing this in my face?”, Gabriel says, voice soft. He looks up at Sam with a soft frown on his face, lips pressed tightly together. Sam blinks, mouth dropping open in an almost sarcastic manner when he speaks.  
“What, that I’m happy?”  
“…No..no- I’m glad you’re happy…but…damn it Sam, please don’t tell me how he likes it…I ..I just don’t want to know that.”  
His voice is tight, strained as he speaks through the bitter jealousy in his throat. Sam snorts and sets down the straw he’d been fiddling with, frowns at Gabriel.  
“Why Gabriel? Isn’t this what friends do, talk about their lives and brag about their conquests? Isn’t that what guys do?’”  
Gabriel looks startled for a split second, and then he scoffs and sighs, looking down again.  
“Yeah, Sam, but we’re not just friends! We’ve never been ‘just friends’….I just – I just can’t have you like I want to.”  
Sam’s voice is slow when he speaks, the silence between Gabriel’s last sentence stretching on and on until he thinks the teen isn’t even going to respond.  
“So you want me?”  
“…Fuck,” Gabriel sighs “...isn’t it obvious? I moved to fucking Los Angeles to stay away from you because I couldn’t trust myself to be around you…You were a child Sam…You were only 14!”  
*  
His hands twitch and he can feel his lips trembling, presses them together, staring down at the table for a few seconds, before continuing to speak.  
“Let’s go”, he says, nothing more, and stands up.  
He leaves the money for his breakfast plus a generous tip, then makes his way over to the door and outside. He doesn’t look back to see if Gabe is following him, his feet guiding him back to the apartment building quickly. Only when they’re in the elevator, they look at each other and neither of them seems to be 100 % sure what this is, what’s happening. Gabriel unlocks the door to his apartment and Sam scurries inside, pulling off his jacket and dropping it on the floor. He stops in the middle of the hallway, looking back at the other man, who’s still standing at the door, watching him.  
“There’s no Jesse”, Sam says then and suddenly he feels guilty “It’s Jess..and she’s just a friend.”  
He bites his lip and averts his eyes for a moment, searching for the right words but failing. There is no right way to do this, nothing he could say would be enough to express everything he’s feeling. So he takes another step forwards, crowds Gabriel against the door and hides his face in the crook of his neck.  
“Gabe, I’m seventeen”, he says, voice quiet, husky, hot breath puffing against the older man’s skin “I’m seventeen..and I still want you….been wanting you for three years now…..”  
He closes his eyes, shifts his head so that his cheek is pressing against Gabriel’s shoulder now.  
“Nobody needs to know, Gabriel…..just..please….”  
*  
Gabriel sighs as his hands come up to wrap around Sam’s larger frame, one resting against the boy’s back, the other threading its way through his hair at the nape of his neck. He turns his face so his breath is hot against Sam’s neck, voice soft, almost wistful when he speaks.  
“You are such trouble, Sammy…”  
There’s no vehemence in his voice, just fondness, and as he pulls away a soft smile appears on his lips. Gabriel places a hand on Sam’s chest and pushes him backwards into the apartment, shutting the door with his other hand.  
He’s so tired of trying to behave, trying to deny what he wants… just how much he loves Sam. He misses Sam, more than he thought it was possible to miss anyone. Gabriel could still remember sake fueled nights when he called Sam’s old phone, and of course no one picked up. If Sam ever turned that phone on again, he’d probably see the dozen or so text messages from Gabriel, and at least 4 or 5 drunken voice mails that consisted of Gabriel sobbing and choking on his words as he tried to explain, time and time again, why he left.  
Gabriel is tired of trying to be the good guy, the one who didn’t corrupt teenagers who were 16 years younger than him.  
All he wants now is to give into that ache deep inside him, and possess Sam, and let the teen possess him.  
So, when Sam’s legs hit the couch in the living room and he falls back into a sitting position on it, instead of calling Dean and telling him where his wayward younger brother was, Gabriel climbs into Sam’s lap and wraps his arms around the boy’s shoulders. He leans in and presses their foreheads together. And he speaks in a soft voice.  
“No one can know….and-”  
Sam’s eyes widen and Gabriel backs away and presses a finger to the boy’s parted lips, silently shushing him and telling him to let Gabriel finish speaking.  
“We can’t have sex…not until your 18th.”  
Sam frowns hard, fingers gripping Gabriel’s hips painfully strong.  
“What? Why not?…It’s….it’d be consensual…I give my consent!”  
“…For someone so smart, you haven’t done your research Sammy… the age of consent is 18. Until then you can’t legally give your consent. You could shout it from the mountain tops while you fuck me, and the courts would still rule it statutory rape…and I’d be thrown into jail.”  
Sam’s face falls and he looks down with a softer frown, mouth in a pout.  
“….Hey…”  
Sam’s gaze flickers up to Gabriel’s face and Gabe smiles and leans in again, lips brushing Sam’s gently. An electric shock rushes through them, and they both take a sharp inhale of breath, instantly feeling the warmth of arousal pooling low in their bellies. Gabriel’s voice is soft, as if he’s afraid to break the spell of silence that the apartment had suddenly come under. Even Rufus had stopped snuffling on his bed in the corner.  
“…That doesn’t mean we can’t see each other…or be together….or do…” Gabriel rolls his hips down against Sam’s, eliciting a shocked gasp from the teen, “other things, together….”  
Gabriel barely has time to grin wickedly, before Sam turns them, throwing the older, smaller man down onto the couch on his back, breaking a shocked squeak from Gabriel’s lips.  
Sam looms over him, hovering over his body, hands on Gabriel’s wrists to keep them pinned next to his face on the couch. Gabriel stares up at the bulk of Sam’s body, the strength he’s exuding intimidating, and fuck holy hell, arousing. Gabriel shudders as Sam brings his body down on top of Gabriel, nestled neatly between his legs, and grinds slowly, sweetly.  
“Sammy…”, Gabriel gasps, and Sam smiles.  
*  
For a brief moment Sam feels disappointed and frustrated enough to leave, then and there. But Gabriel is right. Always has been. They may not like it and it sure as hell isn’t easy. But Gabriel is right. So Sam closes his eyes, as the older man breathes out his name, warm breath against his skin, and leans down, their lips just inches apart. One of his hands lets go of Gabe’s wrist to come up and cup his face, thumb brushing gently over his chin, up to his lips, parting them softly. He smiles then, as does Gabriel and finally - fucking finally - leans down to press their lips together. The first few seconds are hurried, frantic, desperate, the perpetual fear of being discovered, caught in the act on their minds. Sam’s free hand travels down Gabriel’s body quickly, fingers brushing his chest, his stomach, then sliding underneath his shirt.  
The moment he touches Gabriel’s skin, he feels like dying. Honest to god dropping dead at the incredible feeling of finally having this, having him under his hands. He pulls back for a moment, his eyes clouded with lust and need, waiting for Gabriel to open his eyes again. Only then he takes a deep breath, smile spreading over his lips.  
“I love you Gabriel”, he says and even though this is no news, something that both of them knew for years now, Sam feels relieved, freed.  
They look at each other for a long moment, before Sam leans down to kiss him again. He pulls up Gabriel’s shirt, tugging gently, fingertips stroking over the soft skin.  
“Take it off”, he mumbles, tongue darting out to lick over Gabriel’s neck “I need to see you..”  
*  
Gabriel follows Sam’s mumbled order, stripping off the shirt and getting caught up in the collar for a moment. By the time he gets it off, Gabriel’s face is flushed and he laughs, slightly embarrassed, but it falls away when he sees the lust glazing Sam’s eyes. He shivers then, goosebumps breaking out over his skin and leans up to kiss Sam again, pulling the teen down on top of him.  
The kiss breaks for a moment, and Gabriel brushes a palm against Sam’s cheek, bringing gorgeous hazel eyes to his own golden ones.  
“I love you too Sam…”, he whispers, and then kisses him again, rolling his hips up against Sam’s.  
For long moments it’s just this, slow sweet kisses and touching, grinding of hips against one another, until neither of them can take it, and their movements become faster, harder.  
Gabriel strips Sam of his shirt and then palms over the planes of tanned skin he’s revealed, eyes wide as he takes in the expanse of muscle above him.  
“Jesus Christ….you’ve grown…”, Gabriel whispers in awe.  
Sam just chuckles and darts down for another kiss, which Gabriel happily obliges.  
*  
When they part, Sam is grinning, licking his lips, as he grabs Gabriel’s hand and pushes it down until it covers his crotch.  
“Still getting bigger”, he says and bites his lip a bit coyly at the suggestive tone of his voice.  
He’s leaning back then, deft fingers working on the button of his pants, dragging the zipper down. He gets up quickly, stepping out of his jeans before sinking back down on Gabriel to grind his hips against his, the sensations even more amazing now that he’s almost naked. He helps Gabriel to get out of his own pants, eyes hungrily watching his every movement. He swallows down the lump in his throat, when Gabriel looks back up at him, taking a deep breath, as he guides Sam’s hands to the waistband of his shorts.  
Seeing Gabriel naked is strange. Sam had wanted this for so long, had longed to feel his skin against his own, sweet kisses and tender words - having him spread out like this beneath him is breathtaking. He must’ve been staring cause when he comes back to his senses, Gabriel is blushing, looking up at him quizzically. Sam leans down to kiss him once more, then pulls off his own boxers and presses down, their naked bodies sliding against each other perfectly. A low moan escapes his throat as he feels Gabriel’s erection on his thigh and he needs every ounce of restraint not to sink inside of him right then and there.  
”..nhgod…Gabriel..”  
*  
Gabriel’s eyes slide shut as Sam ruts against him, soft gasps escaping his lips as the slick slide and catch of their cocks against one another only helps to fuel the flame burning in the pit of his stomach. He licks his lips and opens up again for Sam, bringing the boy back down for an even deeper kiss, rolling his hips up with perfect timing to ride the muscle of Sam’s stomach and catch in the hollow next to the teen’s own cock.  
This isn’t where Gabriel had been suggesting they go, but the minute Sam’s bare fingers hit his skin, Gabriel knew he was lost. He probably would do anything to please Sam, anything the boy asked of him, so he’s just grateful that Sam isn’t pushing further than this. For Gabriel, this is more than enough. He would have been satisfied just to have Sam in his arms, just to be able to touch the boy after being apart for so long, and thinking that Sam hated him for half of it.  
Now that they had gone this far though, Gabriel’s body overrides his mind, and it sings for the joy of Sam’s hot skin again it, the way Sam’s toned muscles pull and flex under Gabriel’s curious hands.  
He shudders, back arching as Sam pins him down again, so easily taking control and overpowering the smaller man. Gabriel looks up into Sam’s eyes and leans up for another kiss, which Sam dodges. Gabriel frowns for a moment, until Sam shakes his head.  
“Don’t wanna do this here…”, he whispers, a soft frown on his face.  
Gabriel freezes for a moment, mind whirring fast about what that could mean, until he blinks and laughs when he gets it.  
“Bedroom…”  
They get up in a tangle of limbs, Sam’s no longer as gangly as they had been at 14, but still much too long to move too gracefully.  
They only make it halfway down the hall before Sam pins Gabriel to it, lifting him up so Gabriel is forced to wrap his legs around Sam’s waist, arms around his shoulders.  
“Sam….this isn’t the bedroom…” Gabriel whispers, but Sam is too busy marking up Gabriel’s neck, biting and sucking a hickey there for all the world to see.  
Gabriel’s jaw drops open and a low moan slides out, accompanied by a soft ‘fuck’. He takes a shallow breath and then hisses out ‘Bedroom. Now.’  
They barely make it to the bed before Gabriel is sucking down Sam’s neck to his collarbone, dipping his tongue in the hollow there and raking fingernails down the boy’s back. Gabriel ends up on his back again, Sam sliding between his thighs once more, this time one leg hooks up and over the back of Sam’s thigh, pulling him down so they can grind against one another again. Gabriel’s movements are almost frantic, his hands skittering around the expanses of Sam’s flesh, unable to hold still because he wants to touch and caress and feel everything he can- before it’s taken away again. His voice is rough when he speaks, strained from how thick his throat feels.  
“Sammy…Jesus Sammy….wanted you like this…so long…a..ah god…needed you so bad…dreamt about you like this…”  
*  
Sam can barely make out a single word Gabriel is saying. All he hears is soft moans and quiet gasps, sounds of arousal the man he’s in love with makes at his touch, in his presence. He leans down, hands on each side of Gabriel’s face, gently tracing his cheeks and sliding down to caress his neck.  
“I love you”, he says again and the look on Gabriel’s face can only be described as pure ecstasy.  
His hand slides lower then, over the flat of Gabriel’s stomach and back up to his chest, where it presses down gently but determinedly.  
“Stay like this”, he says and it’s both command and request.  
He’s pretty sure Gabriel catches up with what he’s doing at the latest when Sam’s mouth has reached his bellybutton, tongue diving in the small hole and lips sucking at the flesh around. He can feel the man’s body shaking underneath his touches, can feel the slightest bit of reluctance. The moment his hand wraps around the shaft of the older man and his lips brush lightly over his tip, Sam can feel Gabriel’s worries and doubts melt away. The bedroom is filled with a string of surprised sounding moans, a long-stretched sound of approval, when Sam lowers his head even more and wraps his lips around Gabriel’s cock completely.  
It’s weird how right this feels, how familiar, when Sam himself had never done anything remotely comparable. But somehow it is. Somehow the feeling, the sensations, even the taste is just right and he can’t get enough of it. His eyes scoot up, trying to get a good look on Gabriel’s face and when their eyes meet, Sam takes him in even deeper, sucking gently, while his thumb presses against the flesh gently, rubbing down to stroke his balls.  
*  
Again, this isn’t where Gabriel thought this would go, but he’s pleasantly surprised. Gabriel had assumed when he said ‘no sex’, that Sam would understand, and they could be together, and start off slow with long make out sessions and rutting against one another fully clothed.  
He should have known better. Sam, being a hot blooded 17 year old, would have no restraint when it came to sex. The second Sam’s mouth wraps around his cock, two thoughts go through Gabriel’s head.  
‘I’m so fucked’ and ‘Holy jesus almighty, fucking hell Sammy’  
He chooses to dwell on the later, and threads his hands down in Sam’s silky brown hair, tugging just slightly as his hips grind up on their own. Small sounds of pleasure break out of Gabriel’s mouth, his body twitching under Sam’s large hands, which easily hold the smaller man down on the bed, pressing him into the mattress.  
“Jesus, Sammy…”, Gabriel gasps, as the boy takes him even further into his mouth, bathing him in wet heat. Gabriel’s eyes roll back as he arches his back, a grunt coming out when Sam swirls his tongue around the head of his cock and pulls back with a smug smile.  
“Good?”  
“….You’re fucking evil….”, Gabriel pants, with a smile. He sits up and grabs the back of Sam’s neck, pulling until the teen has no choice but to tumble down onto the bed with Gabriel, their bodies pressed tight against one another again. Gabriel’s voice is soft when he speaks, a teasing tone in it.  
“You know, Sam…when I said ‘no sex’…I thought they taught you in school that oral sex is still sex…”  
He arches a brow at the boy and shakes his head slightly, tsk-ing as if he’s disappointed; but his hand snakes down Sam’s torso to wrap around his cock, smooth palm and fingers firm but gentle as they stroke up to the tip then back down, thumb gliding over the pearling precome on the next stroke to slick the way.  
*  
Sam is on the verge of saying something, of teasing back, of telling Gabriel that for someone who’s complaining he had seemed pretty fucking content with the way things had gone a few minutes ago. But then Gabe’s hand wraps around his cock and Sam forgets how to breathe for a moment. His knees go weak, as his body slumps down a bit, making keeping his balance an almost insuperable challenge.  
“Gabe”, he gasps out, his head falling against Gabriel’s shoulder, as the older man’s hand keeps moving, stroking his cock gently but determinedly.  
“gh-..d-don’t stop…don’t stop”  
He knows he’s begging and he doesn’t care, can’t care, when all he wants to do is lay himself bare, show Gabriel everything, give him everything because he is everything to him. All those years of longing, of not being able and allowed to say or do what he felt deep in his heart had numbed Sam, had made him think that he would not be able to ever love somebody again. And maybe it’s true, he thinks, as Gabriel keeps pumping his hand around his cock, faster, grip tighter. Sam had not known a love aside familial affection before Gabriel and he would never love somebody like he loved this man.  
*  
Gabriel’s mouth quirked into a smile as Sam came undone under his hands. He leans in and kisses along the boy’s neck then latches onto the pulse point in the middle of his neck, where the flesh is tender and soft, and sucks hard, sliding his tongue over the salty skin as he bites down.  
Gabriel wants to mark Sam up, to claim the tall boy as his own, after so long a time of denying himself even the basics of a relationship, he wants it all.  
He wants to take Sam to movies and make out in the back row, to go to county fairs and pretend to be embarrassed when Sam won him prizes. He wants to kiss until they were too breathless to continue, and then kiss some more. Gabriel had missed out on three years of not being with Sam, and he’s too tired to deny himself, or Sam, any longer. They would wait until Sam was 18 to have sex… but he doesn’t want to wait for anything else.  
“Sammy…”, Gabriel whispers against his neck as he strokes him, hand turning and flicking with a delicate twist at the top of the stroke before sliding back down.  
“Wanna see you come for me kiddo….”  
There’s a gentle growl in the way he says it, and then he gnaws on the lobe of Sam’s ear, nipping the skin there and smoothing his tongue over the shell. His hand keeps up a steady rhythm, arm flexing and moving with ease, the movement a practiced one as Gabriel had done it practically nightly to himself to thoughts of Sam for three years now. He’d tried not to, hell, had felt like a disgusting pervert for giving in the first few times… but after a while he realized it wasn’t Sam’s age or innocence he was attracted to, but Sam himself. His personality, the way he was eager to absorb every tidbit of information, his goofy smile and too loud laugh, the way he gave everyone bear hugs…. Gabriel loves Sam regardless of his age, but knows that they have to wait until Sam was 18 for Gabriel to give himself to Sam…. and for that one piece of their relationship, Gabriel could wait another year.  
*  
When Gabriel’s lips brush his earlobe, when he breathes those sinful, hot, delicious words against his warm skin, Sam shudders and gasps, body shaking as Gabriel’s request sinks in. He hears himself whimpering and then his vision goes white and he collapses on top of the other man with a long-stretched moan. He’d brought himself to completion countless times before, he’d had sex - but nothing could compare to this. To feel Gabriel’s hand around his length, to know that he’s watching him, observing him, absorbing every tiny little detail, x-raying his every movement and reaction. It’s embarrassing and thrilling at the same time and Sam thinks that after an orgasm like this nothing could ever compare. He lies on top of the smaller man for a few moments, catching his breath and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this is really happening, that it’s really Gabriel underneath him, the man he’d loved for three years now, gingerly touching him, caressing his skin and rumpling up his hair. He forces himself to push himself up on his elbows, eyes searching for Gabriel’s, a lopsided smile on his lips.  
“Jesus…”, he says, the word coming out much more surprised and amazed than he’d planned “why the hell did we wait so fucking long for this?”  
*  
Gabriel stares at Sam for a moment, just as shocked as Sam was that they’d actually done this, and then his lips slowly pull into a smile.  
“I don’t know kiddo…”  
Gabriel lets out a small chuckle then, and pulls Sam back to him again, kissing him soft and slow, just gentle presses of lips against lips. He didn’t want Sam to ever leave, but knew that in a few hours, Dean and Cas would wake up, and wonder where Sam was. If they hadn’t already.   
He sighs gently and lays back on the bed, his cock still throbbing and hard, but his mind already on other things. Like how he was going to explain to Dean that they couldn’t wait to be together until Sam was 18… how Dean would take that. He scrubs his hands down his face and sighs, then trails them down his torso to wrap on around his cock, squeezing at the base to relieve some of the pressure.  
“Gonna have to call Dean and tell ‘em where you are Sammy…”  
*  
Sam’s eyes follow Gabriel’s movements and his tongue dips out to lick his lips unconsciously. He shakes his head softly then, leaning down to kiss Gabriel again, smiling against his lips.  
“Told them I’ll be at a friend’s all weekend - so don’t worry and relaa*x..”  
He wiggles his eyebrows and draws out the last word, as he slides his hands over Gabriel’s body, lowering his head until he can wrap his lips around Gabriel’s cock once more. This time he doesn’t let the man pull him off, doesn’t give him a chance to do anything but moaning and writhing underneath his hands and lips for the next few minutes. He pulls off when Gabriel is about to come, gently closing his fist around his erection and pumping a few more times, squeezing the orgasm out of the other man until he’s limp and relaxed. Leaning back down again he kisses him, then lays down next to him, hands resting against his chest, head tucked underneath his chin. Lying like this he can hear his heartbeat and listen to him breathe and in this moment Sam thinks that this is enough. That he wouldn’t ever need anything else but being close to the man he loves, spending precious moments like this with each other.  
*  
Sam was amazing, that much Gabriel had known. He had known that he was smart and funny, loyal and kind, sweet and generous. Now though? Gabriel knew that Sam was a fucking genius in bed. His tongue…god, Gabriel swore Sam must have had tons of practice to get that good. He shuts his eyes against that idea though, trying not to let the jealousy rise up inside of him and ruin this moment, the perfection of it something Gabriel wasn’t willing to let go.  
“Sam….we’re going to have to tell them we’re together again…if you plan on coming down to see me more…I don’t want to lie to your brother or mine.”  
He sighs and presses a firm kiss to the top of Sam’s head and wraps his arms around the boy’s back, squeezing him gently.  
“I love you….I don’t want to keep this a secret from people who are important to me.”  
*  
Sam frowns at Gabriel’s words, worrying his lower lip as he shuffles closer, fingers brushing over the skin of his chest.  
“They won’t like it”, he says, voice quiet and pensive.  
He can just imagine how Dean would freak when he learned about his underage brother being in a relationship with a much older man. Cas probably too but at least he seemed to understand the situation a little better, as he had been dealing with a similar problem with Dean.  
“Let’s just..can we wait? Please? Just….just give me this one weekend…..just in case…”  
He takes a deep breath, leaning back so that he can look up into Gabriel’s eyes. He can almost see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out if he could grant Sam this wish or if his conscience would hinder him. Sam smiles softly, raising a hand to cup his cheek and pressing his lips against his. The kiss starts sweet, innocent but gets messier sooner than later, when Sam pushes in his tongue and rolls back over Gabriel to pin him down on the bed. Jesus, just kissing him is sending waves of pleasure, of lust through his whole body, it’s insane.  
*  
Gabriel sighs into the kiss, realizing almost instantly that he wouldn’t be able to refuse Sam anything he asked for.  
“Yes… okay, Sammy… just this weekend…”, Gabriel whispers in between hungry kisses from Sam.  
He shuts his eyes then and just enjoys the feeling of Sam’s heavier body pinning him down, lips brushing over his and locking together. Sam made him feel better than anyone ever had; he could make Gabriel’s entire body throb with want from just the grinding of their hips together. They would have this weekend, at the very least, even if once Dean found out he forbade Sam to see Gabriel again- it was only another year before Sam was 18 and could do whatever he wanted. Gabriel arches his hips up toward Sam, breath coming in soft pants from his lips.  
“Sammy…”  
He wraps his arms around the boy’s shoulders and hangs on, legs widening to let Sam’s body ride in the V they created, Gabriel’s stomach slick with his own precome.


	27. Chapter 27

As they keep touching each other, gentle at times, then heated and passionate, Sam loses track of time. When he comes for the third - or was it the fourth? - time from just Gabriel’s hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly but firmly, Sam collapses on the bed next to him, arms loosely around the older man’s body. They lie like this for a while, listening to each other breathing and enjoying the comfortable silence between them. There is nothing that needs to be said. They know how much they love each other and they finally had acted on it, after three long years. Sam couldn’t possibly be happier than in this very moment. He turns his head, looking up at Gabriel who seems just as pleasantly exhausted as Sam does and he smiles up at him lazily. He doesn’t notice falling asleep but when he next opens his eyes, it’s dark outside and the clock shows it’s 2 in the morning. It takes a few moments until Sam realizes where he is and who’s arms and legs are wrapped around his body tightly. He smiles, as he moves back closer to Gabriel, hiding his face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in, as he falls asleep again.  
*  
“I’m gonna kill him!”  
Dean hangs up the phone and pushes his chair back so hard that it falls over and hits the kitchen floor. Cas looks worried, as he gets up as well, lifting his arms in a useless attempt to calm his husband down.  
“At Jess’ place my ass! Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to kill him!!”  
It’s not like Dean had planned to spy on his brother. He’s not like this, never had been. But when Jess’ mom had called half an hour ago, letting Dean know that Sam had forgotten his school things before he’d left, Dean freaks. After only a few minutes Jess confessed, although audibly guilty, that Sam told her he’d go visit a friend at LA and that Jess shouldn’t tell anyone.  
In the following ten minutes, Dean leaves his brother eighteen voicemails and he doesn’t intend to stop calling him, until he would pick up.  
*  
Gabriel wakes up around 8am with a sigh, blinking away the sleep in his eyes and turning his head to look at the boy who was currently busy snoring lightly on his shoulder. He chuckles and brushes Sam’s long hair out of his eyes, sighing as the boy makes a happy sound and only snuggles in closer.  
It felt like he’d waited a life time for this…to feel this complete, just watching someone else sleep. It was the creepiest thing in the world, when written about a vampire who was watching a teenage girl sleep when she didn’t know about it… but watching Sam now, asleep in his bed, in his arms, Gabriel could almost understand. There was a peace to Sam’s features that wasn’t there in day to day life. All the stress seemed to have melted away, and he swore Sam looked angelic in his beauty, tanned skin and soft lips, long dark lashes that looked like black smudges against his cheeks. Gabriel shuts his eyes and presses his lips to the boy’s forehead, willing the day to go slower… even though he knows he’s going to have to get up for the club premiere in just a few hours… it isn’t until 8 that night, but he has a lot to prepare for. Hopefully Sam would understand. Because Gabriel knows Azazel wouldn’t.  
*  
Cas sighs and wraps his arms around Dean, bodily forces him to stop pacing the living room.  
“Calm down Dean… his phone is probably off or on vibrate… I…I think I know where he is.”  
Dean wrenches himself out of Castiel’s grip, furious glare now turned on Cas, and Cas can’t help but shy away from it slightly.  
“Calm down… he’s fine… he’s… he’s probably with Gabriel in LA… Gabe flew back night before last, he has a club opening tonight down there. He emailed me, and I think Sam might have read the email… I accidentally left it up on my computer.”  
Cas looks sheepish, like it’s his fault for leaving the email open, rather than Sam’s fault for snooping.  
“We can call Gabriel, he has a cell phone he never turns off.”  
*  
Dean bites his lip, watching Cas quietly. He still feels angry, slightly disappointed even. But to be fair, it hadn’t been Cas’ fault. Much more Dean’s own, as he had dragged his lover to the bedroom that night, keeping him busy otherwise. Dean sighs, taking a step back towards Cas and taking his hand.  
“Yes… let’s call him”, he says, gently squeezing his hand, using his gentle words and the expression on his face to apologize for reacting so harshly.  
He watches intently as Cas pulls out his phone, dialing Gabe’s number and putting it on speaker. The sleepy, familiar voice sends shivers down Dean’s spine and he has to refrain from yelling at the older man on the other end of the line, letting Cas take control over the conversation for now.  
“Good morning, Gabe”, his blue-eyed lover says and Dean puts his hand on Cas’ shoulder, not knowing if it’s meant to reassure him or calm himself down.  
Gabe mumbles something Dean doesn’t understand and then Cas continues, voice calm but demanding.  
“Sam is with you, isn’t he?”  
*  
There’s a long pause, and Cas looks up at Dean, then back at the phone, almost afraid the connection had been lost, when Gabriel sighs softly. He sounds tired when he speaks, but clears his throat to talk anyway.  
“Yeah…he’s here Cas….and I’m going to guess by the heavy breathing that Dean is there too…about ready to murder me through the phone, am I right?”  
Cas chokes on the laughter that threatens to bubble up, but gets it under control before it comes out with a loud cough.  
“Yes…Dean’s here too…he’s…he’s rather upset with Sam, Gabe…you should put Sam on the phone.”  
There’s a sigh and then the sound of rustling sheets, and Gabriel’s muffled voice as he speaks to Sam. Neither Cas nor Dean can make out what they say, but there’s a hushed argument happening, before the phone gets knocked around, and Sam’s voice is finally heard.  
“Hi.”  
*  
Dean all but rips the phone out of Cas’ hands, when he hears his brother’s voice and the anger and worry that had bubbled up inside of him up until now finally boils over.  
“What the fuck is wrong with you? First you lie to me, then you ask your friend to lie for you and all just to..just so you can go to fucking LA to see him?!?”  
He hates the look Cas gives him, hates himself for how disgusted his voice sounds as he speaks but he can’t stop himself. Of course he’d come to like Gabe and they all know it - but this wasn’t about Gabriel, this was about Sam doing something incredibly wrong, something that could destroy his life - all of their lives… So Dean, for once, has to be the adult, the responsible one, the killjoy.  
“You’re going to pack your bags and take the next bus here. I want you to text me the moment you get on the bus and I want you to let me know when you’ll be here so that I can personally kick your ass, you hear me?”  
Again there’s a long silence on the other end of the line and Dean thinks he hears his brother’s breath hitch. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet and weak and Dean feels like crying.  
“I hate you.”  
Sam hangs up before Dean can say another word and when he dials the number again, it goes straight to voicemail. He leaves the apartment without another word, getting in the Impala and driving off alone, leaving a very upset, very miserable Cas behind.  
*  
Sam drops the phone after turning it off, sliding out of the bed and putting on his clothes slowly. Gabe follows him, a hand squeezing the boy’s shoulder gently.  
“…you didn’t mean that, kiddo”, he says and even though they both know that he’s right, that Sam could never hate his brother, Sam doesn’t reply, turning and hiding in the safety of Gabriel’s strong arms, crying silently against his chest.  
*  
Cas watches as the world they’d so carefully built seems to unravel at the seams around him, as Dean takes off without a word and slams the door behind him. He sinks back down into the couch with a frown, knowing that if he called his husband in that moment, Dean would just ignore the call. He was so like a child sometimes, pouting and throwing fits when things didn’t go his way. Cas sighs at that thought, and an awkward laugh bursts out of him before he can stop it, and then he’s laughing until he’s crying at the absurdity of it all.   
Him marrying his former student.   
The student’s younger brother falling in love with Castiel’s older brother, and then running off to LA to be with the man the minute he gets back from a year long trip around the world.  
Cas sighs, and lets his head fall back against the couch cushions. He was going to have to figure out some way to make Dean understand, to let him see things from Sam’s point of view.  
‘good luck with that’, he tells himself, and smirks because if there was one person who wouldn’t see reason when they didn’t want to, it was his stubborn hot headed husband.  
*  
Gabriel holds Sam as he cries, a frown on his face as he strokes the boy’s back gently. When Sam starts kissing him, Gabriel knows what it is, and gives in without a moment’s resistance. Sam needed comfort in that moment, and he would not deny him that. They kiss until Sam’s tears are dried, until his hiccups disappear under the soft moans and whimpers Gabriel pulls out of him, his mouth moved down, around the boy’s hardness. Gabriel brings Sam to a sweet climax, and comes himself with his hand around his erection as Sam screams his name into a pillow he’s wrapped around his face to stifle his sobs of pleasure.  
They shower afterward, and Gabriel plays the stoic one, remaining strong as Sam lets the tears fall again, burying his face into Gabriel’s neck and shivering even under the hot cascade of water.  
They only have an hour together before Gabriel has to drive Sam to the bus station, but their last kiss goodbye is a gentle one, and Gabriel brushes a hand along Sam’s cheek and smiles.  
“See you, kiddo”, he says. And Sam knows he will. So he gets on the bus reluctantly, but then races to his seat near the window, and presses a hand to the glass, mouths ‘I LOVE YOU’ as the bus pulls away, and is surprised when the last glimpse he catches of Gabe is of the man brushing away his own tears.  
Gabriel spends the rest of the day on auto pilot, going through the motions of making sure the club opening goes off without a hitch. But all he can think about is Sam. Sam’s fingers and lips, his too broad smile and warm gorgeous eyes. Sam’s age…and the time they have to wait until he’s finally 18, and no laws or older brothers, can come between them.  
*  
Sam cries during the whole bus ride. He cries because he’s angry with Dean, angry with the law, angry with the world and he cries because of Gabe. Because he won’t see him for a while, because he already misses him so much it hurts and because in just those few last seconds of them being able to see each other, Sam had seen the hurt and grief in Gabriel’s own eyes. He had seen that this situation breaks him just as it breaks Sam, that he suffers just as badly as Sam does. When he gets off the bus, Dean’s standing there, leaning against the driver’s side of the Impala. The older Winchester gets Sam’s backpack and throws it into the trunk, holding open the back door and closing it after Sam gets in. They don’t speak a word and when they get home, Sam locks himself inside his room, nothing more than a curt ‘Hey’ for Cas, as he bumps into him on the corridor.  
Dean crawls into bed more than an hour after Cas, hesistantly wrapping his arms around his husband’s torso and pressing a soft apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.  
“‘m sorry Cas”, he whispers, breathing in his slightly salty scent and closing his eyes to compose himself “I just..”  
He falls silent, not knowing what to say or how to say it.  
I’m just so fucking worried about Sam. I just want him to be safe, to be okay. I know Gabriel isn’t a bad person and I know he wants to protect Sam, too, but I also know about the feelings they have for one another and I can’t do anything about it but being mean and strict and I hate that I have to be like this.  
He says none of this, just keeps breathing his lover in, hoping, praying that he understood, like he always did….  
*  
Castiel understands. He does. He gets why Dean is worried, and upset at Sam for taking off, for not just talking to him about it. He takes a deep breath and then rolls over in the circle of Dean’s arms, head on the same pillow as Dean’s. Cas smiles gently then brushes one hand along Dean’s cheek, the pad of his thumb gentle over a cheekbone.  
“You’re just worried about him…I know. It’s your job, you’re his big brother Dean…”  
He smiles a bit wider and shakes his head gently, before his face gets serious.  
“…but Sam is almost an adult. When did you start sleeping with men? How old were they?….Did you love them like Sam loves Gabriel?”  
He presses two fingers to Dean’s lips to silence the retort he knows is coming and frowns gently, begging Dean to just shut up for a minute with the look in his eyes.  
“I’m not saying this to pick on you Dean…you know me better than that. I’m just saying…Sam could have ended up falling for someone much worse…The age thing won’t matter in a year…and I know Gabriel. He left because he didn’t want to tempt himself…or Sam, with his presence. He left for a whole year, because that’s how much he cares about Sam.”  
Cas takes a deep breath and pulls his fingers back, then wraps his arms around Dean and tugs the larger man close, head nestled under his chin. His voice vibrates in Dean’s ear when he speaks.  
“If letting them be together makes Sam happy…makes him focus on his schooling and obey the rules and stop messing around with strangers or doing drugs…isn’t that the better alternative?…Would you have been happy if he’d denied you being with me…?”  
He whispers the last part, fingers stroking the fine hairs at the base of Dean’s skull, knowing that what he was saying wasn’t going to go over well, and could possibly make him unwelcome in their bed for a few nights. But it was worth it, if it made Sam and Gabriel happy. They so deserved to be after three years of tormenting one another as they had.  
*  
Gabriel gets home from the opening of the club around 3am the next morning, and the first thing he does is text Sam.  
Gabriel: Sammy, please let me know you got home okay? I miss you so much.  
*  
Dean is quiet for a long time after that, Castiel’s words echoing in his head over and over again. He knows he’s right, knows that everything he said is true. He didn’t care what anyone else said, hell, he didn’t even give Cas a chance to reject him, just bursted in this relationship that started with sex and resulted in love. And still he feels angry, betrayed of some sort, that Cas would take Sam’s side in this, not his lover’s. So Dean doesn’t say anything, closes his eyes and pretends to fall asleep and when Cas wakes the next morning, Dean is already gone.  
*  
Going back to school is hard. Even though he’s been away for just a day, Sam feels different, changed, like a new person. He’s not mad at Jess, he shouldn’t’ve asked her to lie, but it takes her half of the day to get over it herself and be her normal, cheery self. Sam had texted Gabriel back that night, telling him that he was fine, that Dean was pissed as fuck but that he would take care of it. He ended the message with ‘Love you. Miss you.’ and held on to the cell phone for the rest of the night. Monday and Tuesday go by without incidence, as Sam disappears into his bedroom the moment he gets home and locks his door, spending the rest of the day with his homework or listening to music on his headphones. On Wednesday Dean is home early from the auto shop and stops his brother before he can slip inside his room.  
“We need to talk, Sam”, he says and Sam knows that this isn’t about what he would want for dinner.  
He follows his brother to the living room though, sitting down on the couch with him and looking back at him out of blank, emotionless eyes.  
“I know you think you have… feelings for him”, he continues but can’t bring himself to say Gabriel’s name “But you must realize that this is a mistake. You’ll turn 18 in a few months, Sam, and I can’t make you stop seeing him then. But until then you are my responsibility and I will not let you destroy your life for that man.”  
Sam sits there, listening to his brother speaking, trying to calm himself down, trying not to stand up and yell and punch him, even though right now that’s all he wants to do. When he falls silent, Sam finally gets up, his eyes piercing and glaring now.  
“I don’t care what you want or don’t want me to do, Dean. I love Gabriel and he loves me.”  
And that’s it. There is nothing more to say because this is how it is and whether or not Dean would accept it, Sam doesn’t care. He leaves the living-room before Dean can reply something, disappearing into his bedroom and locking the door. He hears him knocking at the door, talking quietly but insistently to him to change his mind, to listen to him. But Sam doesn’t react. He puts in his headphones and listens to the Spice Girls, an angry tear wetting the pained smile on his lips.  
Gabriel sends Sam texts a few times a day, usually pictures of things he’d seen that he knew Sam would like or find funny, sometimes short videos telling him that he loved him and would see him soon. Emails were almost nightly, long pages where Gabriel went over all the things he’d seen or done that Sam missed out on while Gabe was abroad for a year. The things that they should have experienced together, but couldn’t.  
Gabriel’s days are lighter somehow, filled with almost a strange hope that everything would work out alright, and that nothing could really hurt him now that Sam knew how he felt.  
It was an even bigger blow then when Azazel requested Gabriel to come into his office early on Friday morning, and they spend an hour talking about where Gabriel was going in this world, and what he was bringing to the company.  
Azazel sat in his high backed black leather chair, the sculptures, paintings and even the interior design of his office reminiscent of a warlord who happened to stumble upon an Ikea catalogue. Everything was sleek lines and German design, but the overwhelming feeling of danger sunk into Gabriel’s very bones from the minute he walked into the room, despite the framed black and white picture of two lovers kissing on the wall.  
It made Gabriel more than a little nervous that Azazel had offered him a drink at 9 in the morning, and when Gabriel had declined there was a flash of something dark in the man’s eyes. He sighed and slicked back his thinning dark hair once more, and Gabriel had to bite back the laugh that bubbled up as he thought of Snively Whiplash, the villain to Dudley-do-Right, part of the Rocky and Bullwinkle show. Even without a mustache, Azazel still managed to exude cheap villain, and Gabriel couldn’t wait until his contract was up in two months. Everything about Azazel gave him the creeps. And rightly so, when Gabriel finally figured out what he had been hinting at for the past hour.  
“Wait…Let me get this straight Azazel…You want me to consider becoming your…partner?”  
“Yes. Your work is just exquisite, everyone in the community thinks so. I’d love for you to become my partner in crime…in more ways than one.”  
The man arched a brow just as Gabriel’s shot up, and the smile that curled up on Azazel’s face felt much more like a sneer.  
“…I…I don’t think I can do that. My contract is up in 2 months…”  
“I would extend your contract of course…and add more…benefits…to it. You’d have your housing paid for, a company car, gym membership, and of course bonuses for whenever you did a particularly…good job.”  
Gabriel’s skin crawled at that, the tone in Azazel’s voice making him feel dirty just for being in the same room.  
“That’s…very considerate of you, and a very generous offer-“  
“Yes, it is. Before you decide anything Gabriel…just remember that I gave you this job, when you had hardly any experience…You’ve made yourself a name in the community under my guidance…and I can break that name down just as easily.”  
Gabriel blanches, eyes widening at the not so veiled threat.  
“….So….I become your partner…basically, a kept man?”  
“….Yes, if that’s the phrasing you’d like to use.”  
“…And you’ll let me continue my work, and my reputation will stay intact?”  
“…Yes.”  
“…I….”  
“Think about it Gabriel…You can have the weekend. I expect an answer Monday morning. If I don’t get one, you can believe that you won’t have a job come Tuesday, or ever again within this industry.”  
Azazel’s eyes narrowed as he spoke, his folded hands somehow looking menacing and clawlike as they laid prone on the desk in front of him. Gabriel pales, then nods silently and stands to go, before Azazel smiles and cheerfully says,  
“Have a good day Gabe.”  
The nickname sounds foul on the man’s tongue, and Gabriel rushes home to shower, feeling filthy just from being in the same room for so long. The entire time he’d been abroad, Gabriel had been getting subtle hints from Azazel, but he’d been to enthralled in his work to pay attention. Now the man’s patience was worn out, and he was either going to get what he wanted, or take away Gabriel’s ability to make a living for himself in the process of trying.  
Gabriel spends most of Friday morning trying to forget what happened, and without even realizing it, is on a plane to San Francisco by 3 that afternoon.  
*  
Castiel and Dean hadn’t made love since the night Sam left for Los Angeles. It would be a week tomorrow, and Dean’s coldness had left Castiel feeling bitter and angry, at just about everyone.  
He spent the week in his studio, painting, absorbed in the studies he was doing and his teaching. There were a few students and models who were interested in him, but before he had barely noticed, or brushed it off without a second thought. Dean’s disinterest and downright meanness over the past week had made Castiel’s eyes open up somehow, the affection and love he’d become accustomed to yanked away so abruptly, he sought it out in other avenues without even realizing it.  
By Friday one of his life drawing models, a beautiful woman by the name of Amelia with soft blonde tresses and a perfect figure, had finally worked up the nerve to ask him on a date. Cas’ eyes widened, and he flushed and stuttered slightly, licking his lips and shaking his head.  
“No, I’m…I’m sorry Amelia…if I led you on with my behavior this past week…I truly was just enjoying your company.”  
She smiles sadly and shrugs.  
“I know…I figured maybe there was trouble in paradise…and if there was maybe I had a shot?”  
Cas smiles tightly and shakes his head.  
“I’m sorry, no…I…I didn’t mean to give you that impression.”  
She shrugs, the robe around her shoulders shifting over small breasts and gently sloping lines.  
“It’s alright Castiel. No harm done.”  
She flashes him a smile, and he feels even worse. Truthfully, nothing had happened. They had shared a few friendly hugs and she had kissed him on the cheek once as a thank you for a bonus check, but that was it. The flirtations that had happened during the past week were barely that, most people would have classified them as friendly banter- but Cas knew better. He knew that his anger and bitterness towards Dean for his behavior had pushed Cas into acting out.  
It was childish and he was ashamed of it, even though there was nothing he had actually done that was wrong. Even though he hadn’t actually cheated, Cas still felt horrible.  
He goes home that night with a bouquet of wild flowers that he’d picked from his walk home, splashes of yellow white and purple mixed in with green leaves and ferns. He’d been lucky there had been some lots that weren’t well tended, and the owners had let their lawns and sideways grown wild with weeds. The flowers had sprung up everywhere, and he had just enough for a bouquet by the time he got home, a smile on his face.  
His plans for making up with Dean are dashed though, when he finds Gabriel sitting on the footstep chin in his hands and eyes watery.  
“Gabriel?”  
“Hey Castiel…”  
“What are you doing here? More importantly, has Dean seen you?”  
“I’m still alive, that should answer your question right there kiddo.”  
“Don’t call me that. Dammit, Gabe, couldn’t you have called?”  
“Don’t dammit Gabe me. I’m here because I need your help Castiel, so knock it off.”  
Cas hesitates, then sighs and sits down beside his brother, flowers in hand. They talk for an hour, until the sun goes down and it gets too cold to stay outside anymore. Then they go upstairs, and pray that Dean is in a good mood as Cas opens the door to their apartment.  
*  
When the door opens, Dean doesn’t bother to look up, expecting Cas, looking as miserable and morose as the days before. But when he hears him clearing his throat, he blinks, noticing the second pair of feet on the wooden floor. Gabriel looks horrible. Dean flashes Cas a quick look of confusion, before eyeing the brother of his husband again. Despite his reluctance of his brother’s fascination with that man, Dean gets up, worry on his face.  
“What’s going on?”, he asks, looking at Cas first, then at Gabriel.  
He doesn’t expect them to pour their hearts out to him, who had been ignoring his husband’s attempts to make up with him and his brother and brother-in-law’s shrewd affair. Still, he feels that this is something more, something big, something significant.  
***  
Gabriel looks about ready to cry, so he just shakes his head and goes to where he knows Cas keeps the liquor, and takes out a bottle of cherry rum to make himself a drink. Castiel watchs Gabe go and sighs, before walking over and handing the now slightly wilted bouquet of wild flowers to Dean with a soft half smile.  
“These are for you…would have been a little better looking, but Gabriel and I talked for a while before we came up…He’s….his boss is threatening to ruin his reputation unless Gabriel sleeps with him.”  
Cas frowns hard and sits down next to Dean on the couch, slumping back into the cushions, thankful to be home at last. Even with how tense things had been in the past week, this was still home to Cas, more than living with Meg had ever been. He offers Dean another smile and leans sideways to rest his head on his husband’s shoulder.  
“…I don’t know what to do. Gabriel is freaking out…and I told him to just back out now, leave, and don’t look back… but he loves his work. He says he’s really good at it, and this guy, Azazel,” Cas practically sneers the name, “is one of the ring leaders in the club world. He owns over half the clubs in LA alone, and is a huge name in international chains….I just….I don’t know what to do Dean…”  
Gabriel comes back into the living room in that moment, a large glass in his hand filled with Cherry 7-up, cherry rum, and a splash of cranberry juice. He’d already drunk half of it before sitting down in a chair opposite his brother and Dean.  
*  
Dean sighs as Gabe sinks down opposite of him and Cas. He lets him finish his glass, then gets up and mixes him another drink. After three more, he takes the glass out of Gabriel’s hands and skids to the end of the seating surface of the sofa, searching for his brother in law’s eyes.  
“You need to make a decision, Gabe”, he says and is surprised by how calm, how composed his voice sounds, when at the same time all there is inside of his head is chaos and confusion “You can stay the night, think about it but you have to make this decision.”  
He clears his throat, his hand fumbling for Castiel’s, their fingers intertwining, and squeezes gently. He hates that they’d been fighting, that Dean had been so insensitive and he wants to make it up to him. He still hates the idea of his little brother with a man 16 years older than him, but he now sees that they really do love each other and that they’re in a similar situation as he and Cas had been in.  
Dean gets up and leaves the living-room then, grabbing some extra pillows and a blanket and preparing a temporary bed on the large couch. He gives Gabriel and Cas time alone, heads back to the bedroom and tries watching tv while he waits. He hates waiting. But he knows there’s not much he could do anyway. Gabe needs his brother now.  
*  
When Sam gets home from his study group it’s already past i midnight. He takes off his shoes and jacket, when he hears faint voices from the living-room. Not wanting to pick another fight with his brother, he tiptoes through the corridor, only stopping when he recognizes one of the voices.  
“Gabe?”  
He sounds confused but thrilled and the next second he’s crossing the room, sliding down next to his lover and pulling him into a tight hug.  
“You’re here? Why didn’t you tell me?”  
*  
Castiel sat with Gabriel for a long time, neither of them really talking much, just sitting and listening to the silence. Gabriel had already explained what was going on, and why this was such a tremendous deal; how what Azazel held over his head wasn’t just his career, but his livlihood, everything he loved about what he did could be taken away.  
When Sam comes in and hugs Gabriel, Castiel smiles and says goodnight, slipping away and into his bedroom to find Dean awake and watching infomercials. He smiles to himself before striping down to his boxer briefs and crawling up onto the bed and into Dean’s lap. He takes the controller from the man and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness. They take a moment and let their eyes adjust, the only sound their combined breathing and the shifting of skin over fabric as Cas adjusts himself on Dean’s lap.  
“…I know you hate it…but Gabriel is a good man. And he loves Sam. I don’t think he’d do anything to hurt him intentionally, not now, not after everything they’ve been through.”  
*  
Gabriel looks up when Sam walks in, eyes widening as the younger man hugs him. He still feels a little light headed, tipsy from all the booze, but it’s mostly worn away. He sighs and buries his face in Sam’s shoulder, taking in the scent of his Sammy and just relaxing into the larger male’s arms for a moment.  
He takes a deep breath, then lets it out and looks up and into Sam’s eyes.  
“Missed you, kiddo.”  
Gabriel smiles slowly and makes a small noise when Sam leans down and kisses him hard, but he kisses back almost instantly, hands sliding up and around the boy’s neck, fingers tangling in the long hair.  
“Missed you too Gabe…”, Sam whispers against his lips when they part.  
Gabriel shuts his eyes for a moment, then lets out a soft sigh and looks up into Sam’s eyes again.  
“…Things been tough since you got back?”  
Sam frowns, eyebrows brought down into an angry line, and he explains how unreasonable Dean was being, especially considering his own history.  
“And it’s not like I’m incapable of taking care of myself either…you’re not going to kidnap me and make me do things against my will..”  
Gabe laughs and looks down at his smaller stature, then back at Sam.  
“Yeah…not likely.”  
“And Dean was out in clubs with a random guy every other night at my age-“  
“Sammy, c’mon…just…stop okay?”  
“…I’m just saying it’s not fair! Why does he get to be with the man he loves and I don’t?”  
“…”  
“…If we were married he’d have no say in the matter.”  
Gabriel’s eyes flare wide and his head snaps up to look at Sam, jaw dropping.  
“What?”  
“…We should get married. Then he wouldn’t be able to keep us apart anymore.”  
“Sammy…n…no. I can’t…”  
*  
When Cas slides over him, straddling his lap as he rests his lower body against Dean’s, the younger male exhales audibly. He raises a hand to cup his husbands face, thumb stroking over his cheek.  
“I know,” he says, voice thick with a weird mixture of worry and arousal.   
“I just… I have a bad feeling, Cas… and I don’t want him to get hurt.. not again…”  
He closes his eyes, wetting his lips before he speaks again, quiet and careful, words not aiming to hurt but to explain.  
“I know how bad it hurts from first-hand experience…”  
There’s another stretch of silence, in which Dean expects just about everything; from Cas standing up and leaving him lying there, to him slapping him, shouting that this is in the past, that they’re here now, that they’re happy now, despite everything that happened.  
*  
Castiel stiffens at Dean’s words, the implication behind them a cruel reminder of something that he thought, wrongly, he supposed now, that Dean had forgiven him for.  
“…Oh.”  
Cas slides off of Dean’s lap quietly, face slowly contorting from a calm hopeful expression toward one of sadness, emptyness. He licks his lips and settles himself on the other side of the bed, feet on the floor, perched as if ready to leap away at any moment. Castiel’s back is to Dean, and Dean can barely make out the outline of the man’s face. He shuts his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, then exhales, and takes another, then speaks.  
“…I thought we’d put that behind us Dean…I thought….I thought marrying you would be a sign of good faith…that I was yours and you were mine…and nothing would ever come between us again…I…,” Cas lets out a bitter laugh, looks up at the ceiling, “I thought that meant you forgave me for what happened…that you understood…could get it…I guess-….,” Cas takes a deep shuddered breath and exhales quickly, a huff of sadness, of pain.  
“…that I was wrong…I hadn’t thought of Meg since the paternity test came back negative… proved the baby wasn’t mine. For you to…to remind me of that…something I consider a mistake, some many years of my life wasted on her, on that false life we were trying to build…”  
Castiel hangs his head, buries his face in his hands as silent tears escape the corners of his eyes to trickle scalding down his cheeks.  
His voice is broken when he speaks again, strained and tight.  
“…What more can I possibly do so that you forgive me Dean?,” he whispers, staring blankly at the wall in front of him, before turning his head to stare at Dean, eyes red rimmed and face haunted by the events of the past he’d tried so hard to forget, to let go of.  
“What else can I possibly give?”  
*  
Suddenly it all makes sense. Sam curses himself for not having thought about this before.  
He’d been studying the Californian laws about emancipation, half-heartedly, on the side, just to have something to threaten Dean with. Sure, he would need permission from his parents or legal guardian but he’d always hoped that once he’d made clear that he would do anything to be with Gabriel, Dean would surrender and give them his blessing. In his rush of enthusiasm he doesn’t notice how baffled, how shocked Gabriel is by his suggestion. He leans back in, his lips brushing over Gabe’s for a moment and his eyes seem to sparkle, as he repeats his words.  
“Marry me, Gabriel… it’s the only way, it’s perfect! We can be together and nobody… nothing can come in between us!”  
*  
Gabriel is beyond shocked. He swears his mind has just stopped working, or he’s hearing things, because Sam just…proposed to him. His 17 year old boyfriend just proposed to him. Gabriel chokes on a stutter, a shocked laugh, as he stares at Sam, waiting for the punchline; except the punchline doesn’t come. Sam’s serious. Dead serious.  
And Gabriel is screwed.  
“Sam…Sammy...”  
His eyebrows screw up and together, knowing that the next few seconds could change his life forever. Everything they’ve fought for, to be together, all of it, it could all swirl down the drain right in this moment if he’s not careful…if Gabriel slips up again, he knows, can feel it in his bones, that he’ll lose Sam forever.  
“Sam, you need to stop for a minute…just…just listen to me okay?”  
Sam shifts, uncomfortable suddenly. He’d just proposed, put his heart on the line, and Gabriel wanted him to stop and listen?…How was that a yes?  
“….I can’t marry you.”  
Gabriel’s voice is saturated with sadness, fear, and he looks up at Sam with wide golden eyes that search Sam’s own hazel ones, praying that Sam will hear him out.  
“My boss, Azazel, he’s, um…proposed something to me, and I have to take it….my livelihood depends on it..my career. I can’t marry you now Sammy…you need to stay here with Dean and Castiel…finish high school…I’ll-”  
Gabriel pauses as he sees the look on Sam’s face shift from wide eyed curiousity and shock at Gabriel not agreeing immediately to something else. Something darker. Sam’s lip pulls back in a sneer, his chest tightening around the bloom of pain around his heart, as if every word Gabriel said shoved a knife in and twisted it, those golden eyes he loves so much mocking him with their worried expression.  
“You can’t Gabe?…You can’t? Or you won’t?”  
“Sam, hang on a seco-”  
“SHUT UP!” Sam screams, and launches himself away from Gabriel, stumbling a few feet away to stand trembling in the middle of the living room, rage and disbelief, disappointment and betrayal fueling his body, stoking the furnace of the words that come rushing to his lips, slipping past any sort of filter that might have other wise saved him, and Gabriel, from the things he was about to say.  
*  
“After all we’ve been through? After all this time, Gabriel?“  
The older man gets up, following the teen in an obviously pointless attempt of getting the situation back under control. Sam steps into Gabriel’s personal space, hands finding his chest and shoving him backwards until he hits the wall of the living room. His fingers grip the front of his shirt and pull, push, shaking the smaller man in wild fury. Later he would remember the day when Cas had left Dean, when Dean had acted similar to how Sam did just now. Now though there’s nothing but pain and anger and hate.  
“You do this again and again and just expect me to come running, to wait for you until you made up your mind, until you figured out a new way of how to play with me, how to break my heart over and over again?“  
Tears start running down his face, angry, desperate tears, his voice nothing more than a pitiful croaking.  
“Fuck you.. fuck you, Gabriel – go, just… just go and…“  
He’s sobbing now, barely able to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. The bedroom door swings open, Dean hurrying through the corridor to where Sam and Gabe are still standing. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t give either of them a chance to explain. When Cas – who had been busy finding his pants - eventually follows his husband to the living room, Dean has already grabbed Gabriel’s belongings and thrown them out the open apartment door.Despite Castiel’s pleading, Dean insists on Gabriel leaving the apartment. The minute Dean sees Sam go into his room and slam the door, the lock clicking to signal the teen was done, he stops with a hand on Gabriel’s arm, eyes narrowed.  
“What the hell happened?”, Dean asks, voice quiet but demanding. The only reason he wasn’t tossing Gabriel out on his ass was for Castiel’s sake.  
*  
Gabriel had tried to talk to Sam, tried to explain that he wasn’t breaking up with him, but that there was something he had to do…something he didn’t want to do, but had to, for his future.  
For their future.  
Sam misunderstood, it was just a big misunderstanding, like so many things in his life. Gabriel was shell shocked, standing, shaken, with his back to the wall where Sam had last shoved him. He takes a deep breath and then sighs, shaking his head before looking at the ground, throat tight.  
“…Sam asked me….he asked me to marry him Dean.”  
Castiel’s eyes widen and he takes two steps to his brother’s side, mouth open in shock now as well.  
“He what?!”  
“…He asked me to marry him. Said that once we were married, nothing could keep us apart, not even you.” Gabriel looks up at Dean, frown slowly appearing.  
“….Then why is he crying in his room Gabriel?” Castiel whispers.  
“…I said no.”  
Cas winces, shutting his eyes as he looks away from his brother and over at his husband.  
“I said no…and he thought I meant I wasn’t going to be with him anymore….that’s …that’s not what I meant at all.”  
Gabriel had said no, and Sam had taken it as a break up.  
Cas wraps his arms around Gabriel as Gabriel’s face shifts, the shock leaving as his eyes water.  
“He thinks I don’t want him anymore Cas…what am I gonna do?”  
Castiel looks from Dean to Gabriel and back again, before sighing and licking his lips.  
“…You’re going to go, Gabe…take care of your life, figure things out.”  
Gabriel shifts, eyebrows raising in disbelief.  
“But…Sam…?”  
“…Sam’s 17….he still needs to grow up, Gabe.”  
“…I love him.”  
Cas nods as he backs away from his brother looking over at his husband.  
“I know you do Gabe…”  
*  
It almost physically hurts watching the brothers interact, listening to Cas speaking, telling Gabriel to go. Dean can only imagine how hard it must be for Castiel to do this, to leave Gabriel behind to figure out what to do next. He thinks that maybe he does it for him. That he takes the load of being the bad guy, the cruel brother in law who does everything to keep Sam and Gabriel apart, off his shoulders. Gabriel looks back at his brother, staring, pleading, his lips slightly parted in what is obviously disbelief and utter sadness. When he leaves it is quiet, wordless, depressingly quick. Afterwards Castiel is silent. Only when Dean pulls him into his arms, he seems to relax, rigid body going soft in his husband’s embrace, as Dean keeps stroking his back, rocking him, kissing his temples, the top of his head.  
In his room, Sam has stopped crying. Tears still wet his cheeks but there is less sadness in his eyes than rage and determination. He walks over to where the calendar Gabriel had given him for Christmas a long time ago lies in a gap between his cupboard and the wall. He pulls it out, staring down at the remaining days until he would turn 18, the small numbers mocking him, taunting him. He leaves his room, walking past Dean and Gabriel holding each other in the living-room, mumbling curt   
“Be back in a sec…” with a rough, a hoarse voice and slipping outside into the house corridor. When he reaches the dumpster next to the apartment complex, he’s out of breath, body shaking with anger and emotional exhaustion. He takes another moment to look down at the stack of paper, the gift that had promised happiness and bliss. Rain starts falling, droplets of water soaking Sam’s thin shirt and the paper in his hands. He lets the calendar slide into the opening of the dumpster, not even waiting for it to hit the ground, not sparing it another look. Gabriel is gone. Might as well get rid of everything that could ever remind him of the bastard who’d broken his heart more than once in the past three years.


	28. Chapter 28

Gabriel takes the train home, not feeling like flying again, and uses the long ride down from San Francisco to Los Angeles to think about what he was going to do. He calls contacts he’d made across the world, leaving messages for dozens of people, pleading with others, doing anything and everything he could to find a job outside of California, outside of the US. He had to get away again, maybe for good this time, because after this last time, there’s no way that Sam would ever want him back- there’s no way that he could ever forgive Gabriel for letting him think that he didn’t want him.  
Especially when it wasn’t the truth.  
Gabriel makes it home and spends his Sunday night working on answering emails, calling people, and using every contact on his phone list to look for something, anything, to get him out of Azazel’s clutches, and away from Sam.  
When he comes across Sam’s number in his phone, his finger hovers over it, shaking, and with two simple flicks of his thumb, the number is deleted from his contacts.  
It feels like chopping off a limb.  
Monday morning when he goes into Azazel Enterprises, Azazel sits behind his huge desk, self satisfied look on his face, until he sees the look of determination on Gabriel’s own.  
“… Have we made a decision Gabriel? Will you let me take you under my wing…and help you become the best promoter in this business?”  
Gabriel smiles, but there’s bitterness in it, as he shakes his head slowly.  
“Going to have to pass, Azazel…Thank you for the most…generous….offer, but I think it’s just not what I need right now.”  
Azazel’s hand tightens around the glass he was holding so hard it cracks, and he had to put it down before it shatters under his grip. The man’s gaze was dark as he stares Gabriel down, brow furrowed with disbelief and pure, barely concealed fury.  
“….I’m sorry…I thought I heard you condemning your career…I must be mistaken though, you’re far too smart for that Gabriel…”  
Gabriel lets out a soft sigh, then grins at the man, all teeth, and tilts his head down just slightly, looking up at Azazel through his lashes.  
“You’ve mistaken me for someone who isn’t capable…I’ll make it in this world, without your help. Hell, I’ll make it in this world with you damning my name from here to China!”  
He stands up out of the cushioned chair Azazel had beckoned him into when Gabriel first walked into the office.  
“…I don’t give a shit what you think you can do, or who you have in your pockets…I won’t be your toy.”  
“…You’re making a very serious mistake here…”  
“Maybe…but I’d be making a bigger one if I let you control me…”  
Gabriel turns around and walks towards the exit, only to have Azazel stand up and shout at him, voice full of anger.  
“You stupid ungrateful sonofabitch!!!,” Azazel snarls.  
“I took you in, gave you a job, paid you twice what you’re worth!!! And this is how you fucking repay me?!”  
Gabriel stops at the door, hand on the handle, and turns around to stare at Azazel.  
“….I was worth every single penny you paid me, and more, and we both know it. I’m worth far more than you could ever pay me to become your pet, you filthy sick pervert.” Gabriel says, his voice calm, a slow smile appearing on his face.  
“Go to hell.”  
Gabriel leaves without another word, leaving Azazel’s office with his head held high, smirking to himself at the explosion of cussing and breaking glass that happens as he leaves the office.  
Gabriel might have lost the love of his life, his Sam…but Castiel was right, Sam was young. He needed time to grow up, to explore the world, to become the man he was going to become.  
He follows up on his leads that night, and within another week, is on a flight to New York City, where a new job was lined up for him.  
*  
Castiel spends the week in silence, avoiding both Sam and Dean. Sam’s sadness only makes him feel worse for sending Gabriel away, instead of just telling the boy that it was a misunderstanding. And Dean’s words stick with him, and he ends up sleeping on the couch most nights, spending more and more time in his studio, painting.  
He doesn’t know how to make everything okay again, and feels almost as lost as he did when Dean and him broke up over Meg and the baby.  
Cas comes home to an empty apartment a week after Gabriel left, a Sunday night. He wasn’t sure where Dean was, and at this point they talked so little, he wasn’t sure if Dean would pick up the phone if he called to ask.   
Cas sits down on their bed in the darkness and curls up in one of Dean’s sweaters, large on his slightly smaller frame, and resolves that they would fix this, somehow.  
He’d basically lost his brother, and Sam in the past two weeks. He’d be damned if he lost Dean too.  
*  
The following week isn’t easy for Dean either. Seeing his brother fall apart and not asking for help kills him. He knows how broken, how desperate his little brother is but Sam keeps up the facade of not caring, of moving on. So Dean feels just about as helpless as any one of them at this time. To make it all worse, Cas doesn’t speak to him either, taking his blanket and pillow to sleep on the couch most of the time. So Dean works. He spends his time fixing cars cause this is what he can do, the only thing he knows without a doubt he can fix.  
One week passes in which Dean barely sees neither Sam nor Castiel, let alone speak to them. When he comes home that night, the living-room is empty, so Dean doesn’t bother turning on the light, finding his way back to the bedroom in complete darkness. He freezes in the doorframe, the moment he hears quiet breathing, sighing.  
His eyes get used to the darkness soon and he walks closer, sitting down on the bed, next to his lover, who has one of his sweaters wrapped around his lean shoulders. Reaching out a hand, he grabs Castiel’s shoulder gently, squeezing lightly.  
“Hey…”  
***  
Cas looks up when Dean walks in, face passive but eyes worried, trying to hold in the fear he had that they couldn’t fix this. It rushes away from him when Dean reaches out and squeezes his shoulder though, and a breath that Castiel hadn’t known he was holding is exhaled almost as a laugh. Everything would okay. Cas pulls Dean onto the bed and kisses him soft and slow, eyes sliding shut when their lips meet, and it’s like the first kiss all over again. Sparks fly and his entire body reacts to it, breath coming faster and heart pounding like it wanted to escape from his chest. Castiel threads his hands into Dean’s hair and tugs the man closer, until they’re lying together on the bed, Castiel shifting so he was pressed on top of Dean.  
Cas reluctantly breaks the kiss first, pulling back just enough to look into Dean’s eyes, which glittered even in the relative darkness of their bedroom.  
“…I love you, Dean Winchester. I have for quite some time now, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.  
“Anytime soon?” Dean asks, his classic teasing smirk coming to his face.  
Cas rolls his eyes and presses is forehead to Dean’s.  
“Fine…I don’t plan on stopping ever, ok? You’re stuck with me….”  
Dean surges up and kisses Cas on what almost sounds like a sob, hands wrapping around his face, holding him close, a sudden urgency in the movement that Castiel can understand. It had been so long since they were together like this, touching, kissing, making love. His fingers shake as he works the button of Dean’s pants open, the zipper coming down as if it was actively trying to thwart Castiel’s need for Dean. He growls and rips it down, the sound loud in the night air, but then Castiel can slide his hand inside of Dean’s pants, fingers wrapping around the hardness there, marveling at how quick Dean got this way. He slowly starts pumping his hand, kisses still frantic from Dean, but now they were accompanied by delicious whimpers and sighs, moans and hitches of breath.  
“Want to make love to you Dean….,” Cas whispers against his husband’s lips, eyes opening again to look for permission.  
*  
And just like that the foreignness between them, the cold, distant behavior is gone. Cas is touching him and Dean is writhing beneath his talented hands, as if nothing had happened. Dean’s mouth falls open, gasps becoming louder, more desperate, as Cas keeps working him to full hardness, thumb sliding over the head of his cock and collecting the precome there. Dean lets him carry on for a while, then grabs his wrist, stops him for just a moment, in order to spin them around, until he’s sitting on top of his lover, eyes dark and half-closed, as they’re taking in his husband’s heaving chest, still covered by too many clothes. Dean quickly strips off his shirt, kicking off his pants as he goes, then concentrates on stripping off the remaining pieces of clothing from his lover’s body. Sweatpants and sleeping shirt join the pile of clothes on the ground next to the bed and Dean leans down to kiss Cas once more, slowly, passionately. His hands scoot over Castiel’s body, stopping only shortly to twist his nipples and to curl the dark hair on his groin. They would have to talk about what had happened a week ago, about how they would deal with their situation in the future – but right now they needed this, they needed each other, the safety that being close to one another brought with it. Dean leans down to kiss over Castiel’s belly, tongue dipping in the cavity of his lover’s belly button, before licking a wet stripe over the whole length of Castiel’s cock.  
Castiel shivers under Dean’s hands, goosebumps breaking out over his skin with every inch of skin uncovered. As soon as he’s naked he goes to take over again, but Dean pushes him back onto the bed, and then they’re kissing so Cas can’t really complain.  
Dean’s beautiful mouth works down his body, and Cas moans, eyes sliding shut slowly as he just enjoys the sensation. Every touch reminded him of how much Dean cared, how perfect he was, and how much Castiel loved him. The hot tongue on his cock though, reminded him of just how good Dean was at this, and he lets out a surprised gasp.  
“Oh-…fuck, Dean…”  
He blushes when Dean only chuckles, and engulfs his length, taking Cas to the hilt inside his mouth in one swallow. Castiel’s breath hitches and his hips arch up, gagging his husband, but Dean’s hands come up and press his hips back down into the mattress, making Castiel whimper. As Dean works him over, Cas’ breath comes faster and faster, moans breaking from his lips when Dean swipes his tongue over the head, or gently presses it against the bottom of his cock before sliding back down again.  
“…So good Dean…s…so good…”  
He slides a hand down to tangle it in Dean’s short hair, tugging slightly, spike of pain in Dean’s scalp that makes the man grunt and bare his teeth at Cas for a second, growl coming up.  
“Playing rough?”  
“Maybe…,” Cas whispers, and manhandles Dean back up to kiss him again, arching his hips up to thrust against Dean, their cocks sliding together, his own slick against Dean’s stomach.  
*  
Dean smirks at that, following Cas’ silent order to come back up and kiss him until they both lose track of where’s up and where’s down. When they part, it’s with a moan and neither of them can precisely tell or really cares who it came from. Dean reaches over his lovers body, opening the nightstand and pulling out a condom, ripping the package open with his teeth and leaning down to pull it over his husband’s cock slowly, his eyes not leaving Castiel’s for a moment.   
It’s strange, doing this again after such a long time – neither of them had forgotten what to do to make the other scream but there’s an underlying fear of doing something wrong, of ruining the situation with just a wrong movement or word. Dean leans back down to kiss Castiel again, lips pressing tenderly against his lover’s, teeth nipping gently at the soft, warm flesh.   
When he pulls back, Castiel’s mouth is plush and red and Dean loves the sight of his husband staring back at him as if he, Dean, was the only thing that matters. “It’s been too long”, Dean says and licks his lips, mirroring Castiel’s look with a hint of sadness in his own eyes “I missed you… come back home, Cas.”  
***  
Castiel can only nod, throat too tight with emotion, and kisses Dean again. He flips them, so Dean is on his back, and grabs the lube from the nightstand. Castiel kisses Dean while he works him open slowly, first one finger then two, scissoring and stopping at a gasp from Dean, only to be urged on again.   
Cas works his fingers in and out, pressing up and finding that spot inside Dean that makes him gasp, cry out into the night. A smile blooms over Cas’ face at that, and he does it again and again, working Dean over until he’s nothing but a boneless mess, panting under him.   
It’s only when he has three fingers deep, deep inside of Dean that Dean finally can’t stand it anymore, shivering as he exhales, the word “Now…” barely audible to Cas’ ears. Castiel slicks himself and then pulls Dean to a sitting position, ignoring the look of slight confusion on Dean’s face. They sit together, lotus position on the bed, Dean in Castiel’s lap with his legs wrapped around his husband’s waist, Cas slowly guiding Dean down until they both stop when the head of his cock brushes Dean’s hole.   
Locking eyes in that moment, Dean licks his lips and gives a minute nod, which is all the permission Cas needed. He slowly pushes down on the younger man’s hips, groaning and letting his head fall forward against Dean’s chest when the muscle finally gives and he slips into tight wet heat. Castiel gasps, panting against Dean’s sweaty skin, his hands sliding, scrabbling up Dean’s back to grip his shoulders. He pulls down again, making sounds of pleasure coming them as Dean slides all the way on, Cas bottoming out inside of him with a slick sound. “….So tight Dean….,” Cas whispers, looking up into Dean’s eyes. He wraps a hand around the back of Dean’s neck and kisses him, then slowly starts rocking his hips up, urging with his other hand back on Dean’s hip for the other to move as well.  
*  
Moving shouldn’t be this hard for Dean, considering he’s on top and in control of his limbs. Yet the sight and sound of Castiel beneath him, devouring him with his eyes, his lips, his voice caressing his lover’s skin like the touch of a feather – all of this is driving Dean mad, slowly but surely. He returns the kisses, open-mouthed and sloppy, squeezing his eyes shut and gasping for air with each of Cas’ slow, steady thrusts. It takes him about five minutes until he finds the strength to finally move by himself, pushing himself up and sliding back down with a long-stretched groan. Feeling Cas back inside of him is amazing, something that he had become used to during the time of their relationship, instead of treasuring it like the miracle it is. The fact that they met each other, started this weird, fucked up relationship and ended up as lovers, boyfriends – a married couple. Dean sighs and opens his eyes again. It’s not their most intense intercourse, neither is it the longest or most exotic one – but just one look into his lover’s eyes brings Dean over the edge, lets him shudder with need, as he feels release washing over him. He sinks back down on Castiel, feeling him still inside but not being able to move a single muscle in his legs. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, Cas turns them, until Dean is lying beneath him and he can thrust down into him easily. Dean’s hands find Castiel’s back, fingers scratching over the warm, sweaty skin, pulling him down closer, closer.  
*  
Cas shudders at the nails on his back, the slight pain sending shivers up his body, hairs standing on end as a prickling feeling takes over for a moment. He shakes it away and thrusts deep into Dean again, a broken sound coming from the back of his throat at how tight Dean is around him, how good. Cas leans in and kisses Dean with all the passion he has to offer, every ounce of love in his posession meant for only one man.  
“Dean…m’gonna….c-ahh!”  
Castiel buries his face in Dean’s shoulder, thrusting in to the hilt one last time, his hips spasming in aborted attempts to get deeper, climb inside of Dean and stay there, where he belonged. Cas makes small sounds of pleasure as the orgasm ebs away from him, having washed over his mind in a white wall of pleasure, pushing everything else aside except Dean and this moment.  
He collapses on top of his husband a moment later, slowly folding in until his weight is settled comfortably, supported by Dean and his own limbs on the mattress beneath them.  
“….I love you…,” Castiel whispers against the sweat slick skin of Dean’s neck, his eyes half closed from exhaustion.  
*  
It takes a moment but then Dean smiles, moving slowly until he finds a comfortable position. He feels sweaty and exhausted and unbelievably satisfied. He raises one hand to trace the side of Castiel’s face, his cheekbones and the smooth, pale skin of his neck. Dean licks his lips before he speaks, voice quiet and tired but full of earnest regret, an underlying pain shining through all too obviously.  
“’m sorry I’ve been such a dick…”  
Cas’ lips move but Dean softly shakes his head ‘no’, lowering his gaze to his lover’s chest, avoiding to look at him as he keeps talking.  
“None of this is your fault…… sometimes… sometimes life just sucks and you’re miserable and… hopeless and… I’m sorry for taking it out on you…”  
He takes a deep breath, before he dares looking back up into Cas’ eyes.  
*  
Castiel lets out a soft sigh and kisses Dean on his forehead, brushes a hand through his hair gently.  
“It’s okay Dean…I love you, and that won’t change…no matter how much you annoy the crap out of me…”  
He grins and Dean can feel it against his forehead, can’t help his own smile as he tickles Cas’ sides. Cas laughs and pulls away, moving slowly to lay beside Dean, both of them on their backs, their hands finding one another automatically, fingers entwining.  
“…I wish things were different between them…That they could be together without all this…drama.”  
Cas turns his head to look at Dean.  
“…but it’s better this way. They can both move on. Maybe Sam will meet someone in college…I still can’t believe he’s graduating this year…”  
He smiles fondly, remembering the gangly limbed kid that he’d met just a few years ago. Cas was always amazed by just how much Sam had grown up, both literally and figuratively, in the time since he met him.  
*  
Dean chuckles lightly and moves in closer, wrapping his arms around his husband’s body loosely.  
“Guess you’re right…,” he mutters as his thoughts wander off to a little orphan boy, refusing to stay at a house where his brother is not welcome. to a teenager that had been willing to push his own problems aside, in order to give his big brother a shoulder to cry on. To a young man that had suffered through enough heartache for a lifetime.  
He sighs and closes his eyes, breathing in Castiel’s scent and holding him a little tighter.  
“Sammy’s gonna be just fine,” he says then and for the first time in a long time, Dean thinks that he might be right.  
Sam is strong, so much stronger than Dean ever was.  
And he has his family, Cas and Dean, who would do anything for him.  
So yeah, Dean thinks, as he slowly drifts to sleep in the arms of the man of his life, in the end, somehow, he knows they will be just fine.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter of Morning, Teach.
> 
> Thank you SO much for reading, and if you want to, feel free to leave comments/kudos. My RP partner and I love hearing what people thought about our story together.  
> ALSO, as a special treat, here's a WONDERFUL video that a lovely Russian fan made. She's absolutely amazing, and so is the video.
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoNiPIsewV0

The sun is shining bright the day Samuel Winchester graduates.  
Despite his inner fear and grim certainty, he hasn’t thought about Gabriel much this last year.  
Sure, the first few weeks, months, had been tough. Literally everything and everyone had reminded him of what he’d lost, every random couple on the street seemed to mock him with their happiness. But Sam had survived. Of course he had. And once he’d pulled himself together again and his grades finally had started to become better, he had gathered the courage to pick up his life where he’d left it, when things with Gabriel had turned bad.  
So when he gets his diploma and his eyes search the crowd, Sam feels surprised much more than bitter, when he realizes that he’s not looking for Dean or Cas. He won’t mention it later, when they’re having pizza and celebrating and Sam will go to bed that night, telling himself over and over that it’s okay. That there’s nothing to be disappointed about.

 

3 YEARS LATER

“Seriously Sam, you’re going to love this place, and I cannot BELIEVE we’re here for the grand opening!!!”  
“Brady, how do you know it’s going to be fun if it’s brand new?!”  
The man, a blonde who looks more jock than he actually is, grins up at Sam.  
“Because it’s run by the same guy who runs that club near Stanford! The one with the jello pit and the firepole!”  
Sam can’t help but laugh, remembering how much fun he’d had there only a few weeks ago, before Brady had dragged him cross country to New York, for the weekend trip ‘Of a Lifetime!’, he’d said.  
So far, it had been.  
This new bar was more club than bar, and promised 3 levels of dancing, a rooftop pool, acrobats that preformed nightly on silks and hoops from the ceiling and delicious food.  
Hence the name, or so Brady had told Sam, when they’d pulled up in the cab and Sam’s eyes had gone wide when he’d seen the bright neon purple sign over head that read S.A.M.  
“Stands for swimming, acrobats and munchies!…At least, that’s the rumor goin’ round!”  
Sam had scoffed, but while they waited in line to get inside the club, his eyes kept drifting back to the bright purple letters that spelled out his name. It was a weird coincedence, to say the least.  
*

Inside the club, the owner was dancing around, through the crowds of happy people, offering up tickets to the private dance party the very next night to those he thought were having a good enough time.  
He slipped behind the bar and grabbed a lollypop from the dish on the counter, popping it into his mouth as he surveyed his newest successful undertaking.  
S.A.M. was going to be the hottest new club in New York, and as his honey colored eyes looked over the throng of laughing, happy people throbbing and moving to the beat of the dance music over the incredibly expensive sound system he’d built into the very walls of the place, Gabriel couldn’t help but smile.  
‘Sam would have liked this place,’ he thinks, and slaps the bartender on the back with a grin.  
“Keep up the good work Stevie!” he says, before slipping back out and into the mass of bodies, moving like a salmon upstream, against the flow of people toward the stairs, and the second story, which acted like a balcony to wrap around the main dance floor, leaving the middle open for the acrobats tumbling on silk ropes and spinning on hoops to play through the night.  
‘Sam would have really liked this place,’ he thinks again, and sighs, leaning on the railing to look down at the crowd, a sad smile perched on his lips.  
For all his success in their time apart, Gabriel hadn’t moved on even an inch from when he’d left Sam Winchester alone and crying that night, almost 4 years ago. Sammy would be 21…was, 21, Gabriel corrected his own thoughts with a quirk of a brow, and sighed again. His friends kept trying to fix him up with people, men, women, old, young…none of them worked, and after the first six months of trying, people eventually gave up, and let Gabriel just be…Gabriel.  
After the first six clubs had opened without a hitch, spring boarding to the top of the ‘hottest spots’ lists in Milan, Paris, Tokyo, Los Angeles, and Miami, investors started paying Gabriel big bucks just to design the clubs for them, and Trickery Enterprises was born.  
S.A.M. was the last club he was going to open with his own money, knowing that while he had fun having complete artistic license to do what he wanted, he poured too much of himself in it for it to be as fun as he wanted. He was tired, after 3 years of not having a place to call home, rushing all over the world, and generally going from one party to the next, over and over and over.  
Gabriel wanted a home. He wanted a place to rest his head, and he knew exactly where he wanted that to be. But it wasn’t an option, because as much as he wanted it, Sam’s arms weren’t a place he could go crawling back to.  
Not again.  
Gabe blinks back the tears that spring to his eyes unbidden, and sniffs, smiling a little too brightly at a couple walking past as he scrubs at his face. Christ, he hadn’t thought about Sam in…..well…days…but still. Not the time to be getting emotion Gabe! He scolds himself, then grabs another lolly from a bowl nearby, pops it into his mouth, and mingles like a good club owner once more.

*

Sam can hardly hold Brady back from pushing him inside the club, once they’re through security, and the moment they enter the main dance floor, Sam finally gets what the deal’s about this place. It’s absolutely breathtaking with its high ceiling, the way the different floors wrap around an open area for the acrobats in the middle, the lights flickering over reflecting walls and the shiny, black surface of the counter tops. Brady lets go of his hand just to curl his own around Sam’s neck and pull him in for a short but heated kiss. Sam chuckles and when they part tilts his head to the side, clicking his tongue playfully disapprovingly.  
They make their way through the crowd until they reach the seating area on the second floor. While Brady heads over to the bar to get them some drinks, Sam walks up to the railing, letting his gaze wander over the hundreds of people dancing beneath and above and around him. Suddenly he feels terribly alone and he can’t quite put a finger on what caused this feeling. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment, before turning around to go find Brady. He stumbles backwards, when he collides with some guy, raising his hands apologetically.  
“Sorry, dude, I didn’t see y-“  
It can’t be. It just can’t.  
For a moment, Sam thinks he’s dreaming; One of those nightmares that made him believe in a world where there’s no pain, no heartache worse than the occasional jealousy. He blinks again but Gabriel is still there, looking at him with an expression full of surprise, of disbelief and a touch of fear.  
“You’ve gotta be kidding me… what’re you doing here, Gabe?”  
*  
Of all the clubs in all the countries in the entire world for Samuel Winchester to walk into with his boyfriend…he picks Gabriel’s newest one. The one that was basically a shrine to Sam, from the pool on the roof to the hidden bowling alley in the basement for the staff and select VIPs only. The name of the freakin’ place was S.A.M. for crying out loud, and that had nothing to do with swimming or acrobats or freakin’ munchies…It was just Gabriel, being love sick and broken hearted after all these years, pouring it into something that could be useful…  
That could make the pain beautiful, at least for a while.  
But, here he was, in his freakishly tall and even more breath takingly good looking glory…with his boyfriend. Gabriel swears in that moment that something inside him dies yet again at the sight of Sam and the other man kissing, but he can’t be sure that the whimper of pain was really his until Sam snaps him out of his reverie by bumping into him and saying his name. It sounds like heaven, Sam saying his name again, even when there’s an accusing tone behind it.  
Gabriel’s mouth feels stuffed with cotton, far too dry, and filled with such fluff he’s sure he could fill a half a dozen pillows with how the words just don’t want to come out.  
He smiles sheepishly and holds his hands out to his sides, gesturing at the expansive party going on all around them, the noise and revel makers taking no heed to the tense atmosphere between the two men, standing stock still in a world of constant movement..  
“Welcome to my club, Sammy.”  
There a strain in the smile, and it’s almost too easy to see the mask slip before Gabriel takes two test tubes from a passing waitress, the glowing liquid inside blue and purple and dangerously delicious smelling.  
“Want one? I need one…maybe twenty.”  
He downs both and then sets the test tubes back in the rack, nodding to the waitress so she can move on, before turning back to Sam. Gabriel doesn’t know what to say, so he says the only thing that really comes to mind.  
“How yah been Sammy? Long time no see…”  
*  
Sam takes the tube tentatively, his fingers closing around the glass loosely, as he watches the other man downing his. He can’t drink now, not with Gabriel here, only a few feet away from him, looking more handsome than ever. Sam swallows, lowering his hand, not able to look away from the man in front of him.  
“Your club?” he says eventually, voice full of disbelief, even though it starts making sense.  
He shakes his head, eyes still trained on Gabriel, who looks awkward and embarrassed and just about as alone as Sam feels.  
“This… is your club…”  
Of course. Sam nods slowly, finally letting his gaze wander over the interior of the club once more. It makes sense, in some weird, fucked up way, everything in here makes sense. His cheeks flush even at the mere idea of someone naming something after him, a dance club of all things. He clears his throat before speaking again, his voice just a little more calm and controlled than before.  
“I’m… I’m good,” he says and though that might’ve been true an hour or two ago, in this very moment it’s a flat out lie.  
Sam’s not happy. He’d been okay those last three years. He’d been able to pull through, to survive somehow. But now that he’s standing here, looking into those golden eyes again, he feels his emotions washing over him, how much he’d missed this man, their conversations, the way he’d looked at Sam like he was his whole world.  
“I got into Stanford… law school… my-“  
He stops, searching for the right words for a moment, cause really, what he and Brady are doing is not that easily explained.  
“Brady dragged me here… he thought this would be a great opportunity to pick up guys…”  
*  
Gabriel stares up at Sam, hoping his face isn’t completely betraying the awe he feels looking at Sammy, probably just Sam now. The boy he knew was no where in sight. The muscled, tall, broad shouldered god of a man in front of him could pick Gabriel up with one arm and toss him around like he was a ragdoll. If Sam had a height advantage before, now it was even worse, now there was a good 10 inches between them, and easily 50, 60 pounds of pure muscle. Gabriel swallows hard, willing his stupid body not to react, even though it already was.  
He barely heard what Sam says, but catches Stanford, and the name ‘Brady’…that must be Sam’s boyfriend. Gabe smiles, trying his hardest not to let anything other than happiness leak out into the grin.  
“Stanford?! Wow!…That’s really awesome Sam, good for you! What year are you now?”  
He’s practically yelling, as the music sweeps up, and a thumping beat shakes the very floor they’re standing on. Gabriel grimaces and shakes his head while pointing to his ears. He mouths ‘can’t hear a thing’ before crooking a finger and pointing to a side door that has ‘Exit Only’ written on it.  
Gabriel weaves his way through the crowd, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Sam was following, before opening the door and stepping inside. It was just the emergency stair well that lead up to the roof, or down to the ground floor and outside. The door would lock automatically behind you, but Gabriel had a key so he wasn’t worried. In the sudden silence of the cool concrete around them, the thudding music was missed and muffled through the door, almost as if they were a world away from the dance club, instead of just a steel door away.  
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear a thing…Stanford huh? That’s…I can’t say I’m surprised, Sam, you’ve always been the smart one.”  
He grins up at Sam, leaning back against the concrete wall behind him, almost casually. Really, it was to keep himself from falling over or floating away, because just being this close to Sam again had everything Gabriel was melting into a puddle of love sick goo again. Sam was still so gorgeous, and Gabriel wanted to see him smiles so badly it hurt. Why hadn’t Sam smiled at him? Was he…did he still hate him?  
*  
It’s weird doing this again, being alone with Gabriel, looking at him, listening to him. Even though the music is muffled through the door, Sam can’t concentrate on what Gabe is saying, his eyes following the movement of the other man’s lips intently.  
“Yeah..,” he says, voice quiet, as he finally manages to look back up into Gabriel’s eyes “Well, it’s an interesting subject…. considering that I’ve had to worry about the law for a long time…“  
He searches for something in Gabriel’s eyes and when he finds it, his lips curl into a smile. It’s small and cautious, but it’s there. And he hadn’t been wrong – there’s a hint of mischief in Gabriel’s eyes, something so familiar, so painfully intimate that Sam can only barely swallow down a sob of relief. He bites his lower lip, their eyes meeting and for a moment Sam can’t quite remember how to breathe. He closes his eyes then, turning around to let his gaze wander over their surroundings. The nightly city is glowing and glittering with millions of lights around them and Sam takes a deep breath before he turns back around, leaning against the railing and speaks again.  
“But look at you – successful club owner, huh?“  
He smiles again, but this time there’s sadness in his eyes, disappointment and an almost forgotten pain “You got what you always wanted… I’m happy for you, Gabriel.”  
*  
Gabriel’s smiles falters and he frowns slightly, lips pinched together tight.  
“…Yeah…n….not everything I wanted Sam….but it keeps me busy.”  
He smiles tight and looks up at Sam, clearing his throat and letting the smile widen a bit more.  
“Sorry, I uh, used your name without asking. I didn’t….I wasn’t sure if you still hated me or not…but I had this idea, for this club…I kinda used things I thought you’d like, so, um…if you’re pissed I’d understand.”  
He smiles again, sheepish, and rubs at the back of his neck with one hand, staring up up up at Sam once more. Christ, the kid…no, man…Sam’s a man now…he was so tall. Every inch made Gabriel’s skin tickle with goosebumps, his stomach swooping low with pure want. God, he wanted to climb Sam like a fucking tree..Gabriel swallows hard, praying the dark surroundings were enough to hide his hardon in his black jeans.  
*  
Sam sighs, then shakes his head softly and chuckles.  
“I never hated you, Gabriel,” he then says, voice quiet and calm but sincere. “I can’t deny that I was pretty pissed, though.”  
He shrugs his shoulders, looking at Gabriel, who seems to be getting more and more uncomfortable.  
“I loved you. I wanted to marry you… but even after everything we’d been through you couldn’t give me what I wanted.”  
He falls silent again, not sure how to go on. It still hurt, thinking about that night, about how Gabriel had rejected him, how his words had been like knives, plunging into Sam’s heart and leaving him empty and desperate and broken beyond repair.  
*  
Gabriel gnaws on his lower lip, then looks down at his shoes and frowns. Sam deserved the truth, he was old enough to understand now.  
“…I didn’t…Sam, I didn’t reject you…”  
He swallows hard and then continues, throat dry.  
“….I couldn’t marry you because my boss was blackmailing me into sleeping with him…and I couldn’t do that to us. I…I figured a way out of it, but it was too late by then. I’d hurt you, yet again,” he practically snarls at himself, obviously pissed that he’d ever hurt Sam in any way.  
“…and I knew there was no way you’d want me back. Cas told me to go, that night, after you locked yourself in the room…to leave you alone to grow up. So even after I figured out how to get away from my boss..and I started this company…” he holds his arms out, indicating the club around them, eyes wide with emotion as he looks up at Sam. His voice quiets down, small enough to match his stature for maybe once in their lives.  
“….I couldn’t come back and ask you to give me another chance. I didn’t deserve it. And you deserved happiness Sam…”  
He smiles half hearted and tilts his head toward the club, indicating the man Sam had walked in with, Brady.  
“And….it looks like you found it…I-….I’m happy for you, Sam. You really deserve it.”  
Gabriel feels his heart break again, even after all this time and space between them, five minutes in Sam Winchester’s presence, and he feels like no time has passed. Like it was just yesterday that he held Sam in his arms and told him that he loved him. And how he wished it was, even though it hurt so fucking much.  
*  
Sam is silent for a while after Gabriel stopped speaking, telling him the truth about the reasons that had led to that horrible night almost 4 years ago. When he looks back up into Gabriel’s big, pleading eyes, he can’t help a small, humorless laugh.  
“Fuck… why-… why is this so fucking complicated?!”  
He shakes his head, pushing himself off the railing and taking two steps towards the other man, looking down at him out of gentle, fond eyes. He speaks again and his voice is strong and meaningful.  
“I’m not,” he says and when Gabe doesn’t seem to follow, adds “Happy, I mean… I guess I’m ‘okay’… I like what I’m doing, I like my life right now… but I’m not happy.”  
He licks his lips, waiting a few moments before continuing.  
“Brady is a friend. We’re just.. well….. I’m there when he feels lonely and vice versa. This-,” he gestures at the party still going on inside “This is a road trip. I could spend the whole night outside, talking to you and he probably wouldn’t even notice. Most likely he’s already handed my drink over to some other guy or drank it himself.”  
He smiles, shaking his head as he’s searching for Gabriel’s eyes.  
“I… there’s no one special in my life… right now…”  
*  
Gabriel stares up at Sam, his heart going a million miles an hour in his chest, like a hummingbird’s wings, flitting about trying to escape the cage of his ribs. He swallows hard and licks his lips.  
“Sam…I….,” Gabriel frowns and then shrugs gently, wincing at how lame the words are going to sound, “I’m sorry…for everything. It was all so easily avoidable…I just….I thought you deserved the chance to grow up, find yourself…maybe fall in love with someone who wasn’t…”  
Gabriel looks a little lost for a moment, staring down at the ground before he sighs and lets out a huff of a laugh.  
“…Me….”  
Gabriel shrugs and looks back up at Sam, his arms crossed over his chest, almost curling in on himself.  
“There’s…there’s never been anyone else for me, Sam.”  
Gabriel offers Sam a soft smile, a lop sided imitation of happiness that’s so easy to see through it’s pathetic. Gabriel hasn’t been truly happy since the last time he and Sam were together. And now that he knows that Sam doesn’t hate him, and isn’t romantically involved? What the hell…why lie anymore?  
“…I never stopped loving you, and I know that’s fucked up to tell you this after so many years, and everything I put you through…but I just…I can’t lie to you Sammy.”  
The nick name slips from his lips without Gabriel realizing it, his rant pointed at Sam’s feet, shoulders hunched up almost protectively towards his own ears. When Gabriel realizes what he said though, his eyes dart up to catch Sam’s, wide and uncertain about how the nick name would go over.  
*  
‘Sammy.’  
He can’t remember the last time, someone other than Dean had called him this and frankly, it doesn’t matter. Cause right now it’s Gabriel. Gabriel’s lips forming his name with such hope and tenderness and love that it makes Sam’s chest constrict. He takes another step closer towards him, his mouth dry, as thoughts tumble through his head, from ‘this is crazy’ to ‘just fucking do it’. So in the end it’s not really that much of a surprise, when Sam moves in to eliminate the last remaining space between them, crowding the smaller man against the concrete wall in his back, hand sliding over the side of his neck, up to cup his cheek. He’s trembling, despite his experience, despite the height advantage and Gabriel’s own nervousness.  
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says and if only he had any coherent thought left, he would’ve wondered how he was able to calm his voice down like this.  
He closes his eyes, and then their lips meet for the first time in 4 years, for the first time without the constant fear of getting caught, of getting them both in serious trouble. And it’s amazing. It doesn’t make sense, hell, it’s the most ridiculous thing to do, hooking up with an ex lover after such a long time, after only talking to him for like 10 minutes. But it smells and it tastes and it feels right and Sam can’t bother to care about what others think right now. He only knows that Gabriel seems to all but melt into the kiss, hands finding Sam’s broad shoulders and fingers digging into the warm flesh and Sam can’t suppress a low moan as he presses in closer, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss.  
*  
Gabriel feels like his world is collapsing in on him in that moment, with Sam’s lips pressed against his, Sam’s strong, huge hands pinning him against the rough brick behind his back. The solid wall and Sam’s strength are the only things keeping him up as Gabriel becomes liquid, a puddle under Sam’s lips and fingers.  
“Sammy…,” he gasps when they finally break for air, his lips tingling and throbbing from attention they haven’t had for years. Gabriel, sexual being that he is, tried to move on, tried to have sex with other people.   
But ever single person felt wrong, and every orgasm felt hollow and cold when it wasn’t Sam he was sharing his bed with. For the last three years the only person to touch Gabriel…was Gabriel. And now suddenly, Sam was there and holding him like he was this precious thing, and it was all Gabriel could do not to sob with relief, his skin where Sam was touching burning in the most delicious way.  
“Please Sammy…I don’t care if this is it, this is all I get, just, please, please take me…”  
Gabriel wraps his arms around Sam’s neck and kisses him again, desperation and need obvious in how hard it is, how passionate and fevered.  
“Please Sam…”  
Having waited for so long, Gabriel felt like if he didn’t get Sam’s body covering his in the next five seconds, he would go crazy. He never expected to have this, but now that it was happening he was going to take advantage of ever single moment Sam was willing to give him- he needed this, needed to memorize it all in case this was the last time he saw Sam…  
In case the man woke up the next morning, and realized he didn’t really want Gabriel after all.  
Gabriel wraps himself around Sam’s tall frame like an octopus, clinging and rocking, hips grinding against Sam’s and eliciting a whimper from Gabriel and a groan from Sam, who presses Gabriel back up against the wall, the other man’s legs now wrapped around Sam’s waist, Sam easily supporting Gabriel’s lighter weight as they continued to kiss and rock, hands gliding everywhere, frantic, tangling in hair and gripping handfuls of shirt fabric to hang on this moment that was so long, so long in coming.  
*  
For a few breathless moments it’s all hands and lips, frantic movements and hips grinding against each other. Sam feels like floating on air, as he takes a step backwards, manoeuvring them around until he can lie Gabriel down, spreading him out so beautifully that it takes his breath for a second. He kneels above him, eyes hooded with desire, hands scooting over Gabriel’s body, pulling his shirt out of his pants impatiently. He’s breathing heavily, when he has Gabriel’s torso stripped of the thin piece of clothing, the moon and the city lights drawing shadows on his naked chest.  
“I’m not gonna let you leave me again, you hear me?,” he pants, hands resting on either side of Gabriel’s head, a mixture of pain and love and fear on his face.  
Gabriel’s mouth opens but no sound comes over his lips and Sam leans down to kiss him again, slowly this time, almost chaste, if not for his hands travelling down Gabriel’s body, sliding over soft curves and lean muscles, until they reach the obvious bulge in his pants. Sam smiles as he feels his chest constrict with anticipation and need and his fingers close around Gabriel’s erection, palming him through the fabric of his pants. Gabriel all but whimpers at the fierce touch and Sam leans down, his lips brushing over Gabriel’s ear.  
“I waited too long for this, Gabriel…”  
*  
“Jesus Christ Sammy…,” Gabriel gasps, arching into Sam’s touch. Gabriel had wanted to be Sam’s first, his everything…but seeing Sam now years later, with obvious experience under his belt, some part of him realizes that this isn’t half bad either. Sam’s movements and mannerisms are different, more confident, and it takes Gabriel a half second to even comprehend that this is the same Sammy who had taken a train across half of California to see him in defiance of his brother’s rules.  
This Sam was absolutely in charge, raw power and need fueling his hand as they strip Gabriel. It’s anything but methodical, the way Sam undos Gabriel’s belt and then yanks the zipper down, button popping as if it was afraid to stand in the way of what Sam wanted. He finally snaps out of his trance, realizing that he was far more naked than Sam, and that was just unacceptable. Gabriel reaches up and yanks on Sam’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head, and suddenly there’s miles of golden tanned skin, tinged blue in the moonlight. Gabriel’s breath catches, and once again he mutters ‘Jesus Christ Sammy’, under his breath, but it’s for a completely different reason this time.  
His Sam is beautiful. More beautiful than any and all of Gabriel’s dreams and fantasies put together. Never in all the time that had passed could Gabriel have prepared for this moment, when Sam, in all his powerful animalistic glory, hovered over him and grinned an almost feral grin. Gabriel can’t help the small laugh that bubbles up out of his lips at that, and reaches up to pull Sam down for another hungry kiss.  
His blood rushes in his ears, the club noise and the city around them drowning out until all he can hear is his own heartbeat, and their joined breathing, rough and shallow as they both struggle to get the remaining offending articles of clothing off each other. The pavement of the landing they’re on is rough and cold, but Sam manages to lie their clothes out to give them just enough space to lay on, but when he winces from how hard it is on his knees, Gabriel sits up on his elbows, tilting his head to one side.  
“…There’s a staff lounge, if you’d rather go there?”  
Gabriel isn’t sure either of them can wait that long, to make it to the lounge, but he figured he would offer it, just in case Sam would rather their first time be somewhere less cold and in the open.  
Gabriel, however, is reveling in it. The cold air prickles his skin and the moonlight makes Sam’s hazel eyes alit with an inner fire that only makes him appear even more dangerous and possessive as he moves over Gabriel’s body with a predatory grace. Gabriel swallows hard as Sam’s massive hands all but encircle his waist, thumbs stroking over his hipbones. His own smaller, paler hands slide up Sam’s forearms, grip there to ground himself in the moment, memorize every piece he can.  
*  
Sam contemplates Gabriel’s offer for a moment, then firmly shakes his head.  
“I doubt we’d make it that far,” he breathes, licking his too dry lips and reaching up to brush a strand of brown hair out of his face “I can take you here or on the dance floor – your call.”  
They stare at each other for a few breathless seconds, until Gabriel huffs out a laugh and Sam leans down to kiss the smile off his lips. When they eventually break apart, Sam moves back to get up, fingers finding the button of his pants and quickly stripping himself off the bothersome piece of clothing. He feels Gabriel’s eyes on him, as all that there’s left is his shorts, the white of them almost shining in the dark of the night. Sam licks his lips again, this time more deliberate, lascivious even, as his fingers hook underneath the waistband of his shorts and pull them down, deliciously slow, until he can step out of them. He’s back on top of Gabriel in a heartbeat, grinding his pelvis against the smaller man’s and eliciting low groans of approval from him. He leans down to lick over Gabriel’s neck, tracing the thick vein that runs up from his collarbone to the curve of his jaw and when he sinks his teeth into Gabriel’s earlobe and feels a shudder run through the man’s body, he can’t keep his own arousal in any longer. His cock is throbbing, blood rushing through his whole body at the intimacy they now share. It’s been too long. Too fucking long.  
He pulls back a bit, staring down at Gabriel out of lust-blown eyes, as his hands take a hold of the waistband of his shorts, the last piece of clothing seperating them from each other. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if something’d happen right now. From the fire alarm being pulled to Dean kicking in the door and punching both of them senseless, Sam expects just about everything.  
So when nothing happens, the sounds of the city around them and Gabriel’s shallow breathing still embracing them, Sam exhales audibly, a smile spreading over his face.  
“Gabe,” he says and his voice is filled with a sudden tenderness, his fingers trembling as they brush over the side of his lover’s face “Gabe, I-… fuck, I still love you…”  
A sob of relief escapes his lips and he has to close his eyes for a moment and just breathe.Gabriel is still there when he opens them again, looking up at him with an uninterpretable look on his face. Sam takes another deep breath, before leaning down and kissing him once more, resting their foreheads against each other afterwards and just breathing him in.  
“Let me make love to you, Gabriel… please…”  
*  
When the words come from Sam’s mouth, Gabriel realizes just how tense he’d been at not hearing them back when he’d made his own confession. His body relaxes completely under Sam’s, the tiniest muscles in his face smoothing out and then he smiles, and nods, and wraps his arms around Sam’s neck to hold him. They kiss again, barely able to manage it because neither of them can stop smiling long enough to press their lips together for long.  
“…I don’t…Sam…I don’t have anything…”  
Gabriel looks worried, but Sam just shakes his head and pulls a small packet of lube and a condom out of the back pocket of his jeans. Gabriel arches a brow and Sam shrugs.  
“I told you…Brady-“  
“Okay, yeah…I don’t….just, c’mere Sammy…”  
Gabriel doesn’t really want to hear about Sam and anyone else, even if he’s about to reap the benefits of those experiences. The very idea of Sam with anyone else makes his chest tight, makes it hard to breathe, and not in the good way that being in love with Sam did. He smiles and slides his hands down Sam’s sides, scraping nails lightly over muscle and bone, not an ounce of fat to be had on the man hovering above him.  
“Damn, Sammy…hitting the gym huh?”  
The look Sam gives him at that is enough to make Gabriel practically giggle before he shuts up again and smiles, sitting up on his elbows and then kneeling so that he could push Sam back against their makeshift blanket.  
“Let me…”  
Gabriel crawls over Sam’s sprawled form, hands sliding up the man’s muscular thighs, tripping over hipbones and settling there as Gabriel’s mouth trails behind. A sigh from Sam gives him all the permission he needs, and within moments Gabriel has his mouth wrapped around Sam’s cock, licking and sucking for all he’s worth. It’s hard at first, Gabriel’s lips not used to holding tight around something of such a girth in quite a while, but he manages, and just like riding a bicycle, is soon back up to his old speed. He breathes in time with the movement of his head, bobbing up and down on Sam’s cock and taking him almost to the hilt. Low moans come from Gabriel’s mouth at how good Sam tastes, and how amazing it was that he was finally allowed to do this- without legal ramifications.  
*  
When Gabriel’s lips close around his erection, Sam throws his head back so hard that without the clothes underneath them he would’ve been sure to have a concussion. A long-stretched moan escapes his lips and his hands fumble to find leverage on Gabriel’s shoulders. His hands slide up the other man’s torso, as he keeps sucking and licking him, the sounds he makes so deliciously filthy that Sam can’t help but blush. Fingers tangle in Gabriel’s long, dirty blonde hair and tug gently, suggesting a different, a faster rhythm. Soon Sam is beyond words, writhing underneath the older man and moaning uncontrollably, as he feels his tongue tracing the underside of his cock, the small slit on the head and when Gabriel’s teeth scrape along his length, Sam is pretty sure he’s crying out with bliss. His hands, soft and tender before, now grip Gabriel’s shoulders, pulling him off and up, so that Sam can kiss his lover, chasing his own taste as he licks inside his mouth.  
“Need you… now…,” he all but growls and seconds later he’s kneeling in between Gabriel’s wide spread legs, lowering his head until he can run the tip of his tongue over Gabriel’s hole.  
A full body shudder and a surprised gasp is all Sam needs to proceed, his hands spreading apart Gabriel’s ass cheeks as he’s pushing in his tongue as deep as possible.  
*  
Gabriel’s entire body locks up and shakes under Sam’s hands, a sharp gasp followed by a “Fuck, Sammy!” has Sam chuckling and diving further, hands gripping and holding Gabriel open for him. Gabriel practically thrashes under Sam’s ministrations, his body completely unused to this now, after years without it. Sure, he’d gotten himself off countless times, fucked up himself wide open with dildos and his fingers, thinking of Sam the entire time…but this was different.  
This was Sam’s mouth, his tongue, pushing his limits, breaking him open in the sweetest way imaginable. Gabriel sobs when Sam curls his tongue on the way out, back arching and hips rolling up to present himself better. He reaches down and grabs the back of his knees, hauling his legs up and out of the way, and the look Sam gives him, a full out smirk, is enough to have Gabriel trembling with need.  
“Sammy…please…n…need it…need you…”  
Sam groans and then lets go with one hand to bring it up and place it at Gabriel’s lips. The older man instantly latches on, sucking and licking Sam’s fingers until they’re soaking wet, dripping with saliva. Sam smiles and bites down on the inside of Gabriel’s thigh gently, making Gabriel gasp and let go of Sam’s fingers. He draws them back down and circles the tight pucker he’d been tonguing with one, before sliding it home inside of Gabriel. Gabriel’s body goes taut for a moment, then he exhales and relaxes under Sam again, boneless and ready.  
*  
With Gabriel’s voice trembling like this, Sam is not sure how he ever managed to get off without him. Compared to the feelings this man triggers inside of him, all his past amorous escapades seem dull, lifeless and boring. Sam pushes his finger deeper, until he’s knuckle-deep inside of his lover. He holds still for a moment, peppering gentle kisses along Gabriel’s thigh, up to where leg meets hip and huffs out warm breaths over his leaking cock. He crooks his finger, when he slowly pulls it back, almost completely out of Gabriel’s body, before he adds another digit. Gabe is panting beneath him, eyes fluttering shut, only to snap back open, when Sam repeats the motion with two fingers. He keeps kissing over Gabriel’s erection, pressing his lips to the tip of it, just before closing his lips around it and sucking softly. It only takes him three fingers and less than five minutes, until Gabriel is grabbing his wrist, looking down at him with pleading, almost suffering eyes. So Sam moves backwards, pulling his fingers out of his lover’s body slowly, then reaching for the condom and lube. He squeezes a large amount of the cool lotion on his hand and coats his cock with it, before spreading some more of it over Gabriel’s entrance, chuckling at the quiet hissing noise the older man makes.  
He leans down once more, lips pressing gently against Gabriel’s, their eyes fixated on each other. There’s no way around it – Sam is nervous. He’s done this countless times before, both on the giving and receiving end. But this is Gabriel. The man he’d been in love with for the last, hell, seven years. So when Sam positions himself, hands spreading both of Gabriel’s legs tenderly he can’t hide the flurry, the fear of doing this wrong, of screwing up what could be the last chance of making everything between them right again.  
“Ready?,” he asks but even without words, they both know Gabriel is.  
So Sam swallows down the nervousness and pushes forward, the tip of his cock breaching Gabriel’s hole, engulfed by hot, wet tightness. He can’t suppress a low groan that makes his whole body shudder with need and without any chance of holding himself back, he pushes further, deeper, instead of going slow. Only when he’s inside of him completely, Sam dares to exhale, looking down into Gabriel’s eyes full of anticipation and worry.  
*  
Gabriel’s eyes are squeezed closed tight, breathing coming in shallow shudders, as he fights with his body to let go and relax. It burns, Sam’s cock sliding home inside of him like that. He’s so much larger than three fingers, even if those fingers are Sam’s, and the stretch is just the wrong side of painful. Gabriel opens his eyes are there are tears glittering there, but he shakes his head when Sam looks shocked and worried, and only reaches up to bring Sam down for a kiss.  
They kiss for a few long moments, Sam easing the burn with distractions elsewhere, hands sliding up Gabriel’s sides and back down to cup his ass, fingers gentle on ribs and hips. Soon Gabriel is rocking his hips and whimpering softly against Sam’s lips, and when they both open their eyes this time there a slowly building need in Gabriel’s instead of tears, his body reacting to Sam’s heat and intrusion in the best way.  
“It’s okay Sam…g..go…”  
So Sam does. He rocks back slowly, the shift and drag of his cock delicious and so achingly slow that they both moan in tandem, Gabriel gripping the clothes beneath him and Sam shutting his eyes as he tries to focus.  
“S-Sammy…,” Gabriel gasps, something he hasn’t felt from a real man in far too long pressing inside, the head of Sam’s cock brushing paste his prostate. Sam’s smile makes Gabriel flush, and he mutters ‘Shut up’ before smiling, and with that all the tension is gone, and it’s just them again, smiling and staring at one another with an over whelming sense of awe.  
Through long hard years they both fond their way here, weaving their own roads through relationships and jobs, schools and long nights alone. They found their way here to one another’s arms, and when Gabriel rolls his hips and gasps “Move Sam, please!”, Sam can’t hold back any longer, his thrusts long and hard, jolting Gabriel’s smaller body and making the older man cry out into the night.   
*  
Sam had had sex. A lot of it in those past four years, to be quite frank – but none of it compared to this. There’s this… trust between them, this familiarity, an intimacy Sam hasn’t experienced with anyone before. For a few breathless seconds he’s sure he’s gone too far, hurting Gabriel, scaring him away – and then the other man is pulling him in, spurring him on to go faster, to let go and Sam can’t remember the last time he’s felt this free. He leans down to steady his weight on his elbows, as his lower body keeps thrusting inside of Gabriel’s willing body. He won’t last long like this, not with Gabriel this pliant, lying beneath him and making sounds so deliciously beautiful that it almost hurts. Sam is pretty sure that even if someone opened the club door and caught them right now, neither of them would fucking care, cause in this very moment everything is perfect. He pulls out almost completely, before pushing back in so hard Gabriel’s hips lift up from the ground.  
“God-.. Gabe…. so tight….,” he gasps and he knows he’s blabbering but he simply doesn’t have any coherent thought left  
*  
Sam’s thrusts pick up in speed and intensity, and Gabriel actually keens, head tossed back and mouth open as the sound escapes his lips, body shaking under Sam.  
“Oh- Christ, Sammy…p..please…yes…GOD!”  
It felt so good, better than any of his toys, any of his distant partners from years upon years ago. Sam was living, breathing perfection, and Gabriel got to have him, got to experience the fucking majesty that was Samuel Winchester, pounding him into the pavement in the best sense of the phrase.  
“Sam!”  
Gabriel arches his hips up, taking Sam deeper, but it’s not enough. Sam pulls back and pushes Gabriel’s legs up, knees bent toward his ears, and keeps slamming into him. Gabriel lets out a strangled cry of pleasure, before Sam leans down and kisses him again, silencing it into a low moan.  
*  
At this point there’s not much else left for Sam to do but hold Gabriel down and pound into him, feeling him clenching even tighter around him with each thrust. The tightness, the friction, Gabriel all but screaming with pleasure, voice muffled with Gabriel’s kisses – all of it makes Sam question if he would be able to hold out much longer. He slams back into him, his cock sliding inside him to the hilt and in that moment he realizes that he can’t. It’s too much, too intense, too long overdue and to be honest he doesn’t even care that he’s already that close.  
They’d been through too much, they’d waited and suffered enough. It’s time to let go, to close his eyes and just be. So he pulls back out, slower this time, biting his lip at the sound of surprise Gabriel makes at his sudden deceleration. And when he thrusts in again, tip of his cock rubbing over Gabriel’s prostate – if the blissful moans are any indication – he does just that.  
He lets go. His orgasm washes over him first and it hits him hard. He spasms on top of his lover, fireworks of white exploding in the back of his head. His legs give in after just a few seconds and he slumps down half on top of Gabriel, half on the solid ground next to him. The floor is shockingly cool and Sam hisses at the contact with his heated skin but there’s more important things at hand. Gabriel hasn’t come yet.  
So with the very last of his strength Sam manages to haul himself up on his elbows and slide down, to kiss over Gabriel’s stomach and wrap his lips around his cock. A low moan escapes him, as he begins sucking Gabriel’s erection and he feels Gabriel’s hips jerking beneath him. He pulls back, licking the droplets of pre-come from his rosy lips and looking up into Gabriel’s lust-hooded eyes.  
“Come on, Gabe. Fuck my mouth.”  
*  
Gabriel has no idea who taught Sam to fuck like that, but as Sam is slamming home inside of him, grunting and shivering above him, Gabriel’s mind manages to think ‘Should give that person a medal’.  
But then Sam is coming inside of him, and he’s lost in the beauty of those gorgeous muscles standing out, tense and shaking as Sam holds himself inside of Gabriel and pants, his name on Sam’s bruised lips. Gabriel almost comes then, purely from the sight above him, but Sam collapses and he’s shocked out of the wave of pleasure, concern for the younger man racing through him.  
The whiplash of emotions doesn’t stop there though, as almost instantly Sam is pulling out and crouching between Gabriel’s legs, his cock enveloped in tight, wet heat. Gabriel lets out a shocked cry, hips thrusting up, and then Sam speaks, the filthy words dripping from his lips, so sinful- it’s all Gabriel can do to grab his head and shove him back down on his cock, guiding Sam’s rhythm in jerky motions.  
It doesn’t last long, only a handful of deep trusts into Sam’s mouth, and then Gabriel’s body goes tense and he gasps out “Sammy!”, before his head is thrown back, fingers curling in Sam’s long hair and gripping. He comes hard enough to see stars, galaxies, his entire body taut like a bow under Sam’s massive hands. Gabriel rides the high out and crashes back to reality in panting breathes, his chest heaving.  
“Fuck…Sam…”  
*  
Sam can’t tear his eyes apart from the view in front of him. Gabriel is so far gone that it almost hurts knowing that they’re both done, that their first time after so many years had passed so rushed. But watching Gabriel’s whole body shiver, spasm underneath Sam’s talented tongue, his face contorted with what must be sheer pleasure, is the most erotic thing Sam has ever seen. He pulls off a while after that, Gabriel’s taste on his tongue, as he licks one more time over the sensitive tip and causes Gabriel to tremble beneath him. He crouches up, licking his lips, before settling on one of his elbows next to his lover, looking down into his sweaty, flushed face and smiling. A real, an honest smile, finally, after all this time.  
“I can’t believe it…”  
He hadn’t planned on saying it out loud but he doesn’t mind either. It’s the truth. Those past few minutes seem almost like a dream, considering they’ve only met after three years of being apart, frustrated and lonely. Sam sighs and leans down, kissing over Gabriel’s forehead, the bridge of his nose, before pressing his lips gently against the older man’s. When they part several minutes later, they’re breathless and Sam chuckles at the sight of Gabriel, eyes closed, face tilting upwards in order to catch his lips once more. When Gabe opens his eyes again, they look at each other for a long moment, soft smiles on their lips. Sam lies back down, resting his head on Gabriel’s shoulder, breathing in the musky scent of sex, midnight air and Gabe, Gabe, Gabe. His hand finds the thin, curly hair on Gabriel’s chest, fingers sifting through them and when he speaks, he feels the humming of his voice trembling through his lover’s whole body.  
“I don’t wanna leave you… never again…”  
*  
Gabriel wraps an arm around Sam’s back, staring up and watching the floodlights he’d rented and placed out front of the club criss cross, giant flashlight beams across the inky blue black of the night sky. He smiles softly and leans up, arching his head to look down at Sam.  
“…Then don’t.”  
When Sam sits up and stares at Gabriel, a frown on his face, Gabriel shifts to lean up on one elbow, the other arm coming out to clasp Sam’s hand, fingers intertwined, his own lost beneath Sam’s massive ones.  
“…I own my company…I get to do whatever I want…so if what I want is to only take jobs in California from now on…I can do that.”  
Gabriel grins at Sam and pulls Sam’s hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles.  
“…I would give anything in the world to be with you kiddo…I’ve loved you since before I was supposed to, and I’l love you long after you’ve grown tired of me. I don’t think it’s possible for me to stop, at this point.”  
His smile softens and he lets go of Sam’s hand to reach up and tweak Sam’s nose, lip twitching up at the corner.  
“Loving you is like breathing air or watching porn or eating too much candy for me…just seems to come naturally. So….you think you have room at your place for me n’ my dog…or should I just buy us a house?”  
Everything was so matter of fact for Gabriel. Sam wanted him. He’d always wanted Sam, never stopped in fact…and nothing was going to stop him from having that now.  
Nothing.  
*

That night Sam Winchester didn't lose much time thinking or weighing up the pros and cons of this decision. They'd left the club in a hurry, Sam only quickly rushing over to let Brady know he would have to drive back to Stanford alone and then following Gabriel outside to his car. They barely made it over to Gabriel's place without the older one crashing the car due to Sam's obvious interest in getting his hands in his pants again.

Six weeks later, Sam finally kicks the door of the moving van shut behind him, a large box labeled 'CDs' in his arms and sweat running down from his neck over his torso to soak the white wifebeater. Gabriel is leaning in the door frame of his – their – apartment, smiling at him quietly.

„What?“, Sam manages, as he squeezes past his lover – boyfriend – and puts the box down on the ground next to the about 20 others. For someone who had been moving around an awful lot the past five years, Gabriel apparently owns a lot of shit anyway.

The dog's running around Sam's legs and he kneels down to pat his head, head tilted to look up at Gabriel.

„Nothing... I just like the view, that's all...“

Sam grins, not even trying to hide the blush creeping on his cheeks. He pushes himself back up, biting his lip as he crowds the smaller man against the door frame, nose nuzzling against Gabriel's neck.

„Well, guess what, chucklehead - you'll get to see this every day from now on. So you're coming or what? Pizza's getting cold.“

Sam snorts, shaking his head as his older brother disappears from the doorway to the dining room, where he had been scowling at the two of them. He can hear Castiel chuckling, as he sets down the plates and cutlery on their new wooden table and he can just imagine how his brother-in-law would pull Dean into a tight hug, kissing his temples and whispering soothing words against his skin, Dean's lips twitching into a small smile he can't bother to try to hide.

Despite all their fears of their family's reaction, things had gone more than well. Hell, when Sam had explained what happened, Dean had even granted Gabriel a small half-hug, welcoming him back into the family. Of course later he'd pulled him aside, letting him know that if he hurt Sammy ever again, he would personally salt and burn him alive, but it wasn't like Gabriel didn't understand or planned to ever pull anything stupid on his boyfriend again.

They're happy.  
It's almost a bit too much, Sam thinks, as he watches Gabriel laughing softly and winking at him, before exiting the living-room.  
Seven years ago he'd met a man who was smart and funny and incredibly talented, a man with a passion, a man with eyes like honey and that certain spark, that just managed to light young Sam on fire, to inflame him with a powerful, an addictive love.

Now, seven years and countless disappointments and heartbreaks later, they'd both matured. They'd spent enough time apart to realize that what they had, what they always had, was something worth saving, something worth waiting for.

Sam smiles to himself, wiping the sweat off his forehead and looking around him. It would take days, maybe even a week, to clean up this chaos, to find a place for all of Gabriel's stuff in their home. But as his eyes travel over the living-room walls and linger on the last page of the calendar, the promise Gabriel had once given to him, Sam figures that it would be okay.

What are seven days compared to seven years, anyway?

T H E E N D


End file.
